


Cute and Gross

by DaisyErina



Category: Fullmetal Alchemist - All Media Types, Miraculous Ladybug, Teen Titans (Animated Series), Voltron: Legendary Defender, Yuri!!! on Ice (Anime)
Genre: A lot of Klance, F/F, F/M, I've been on a Voltron kick lately, M/M, klance
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2017-12-06
Updated: 2018-10-09
Packaged: 2019-02-11 06:45:36
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 15
Words: 31,997
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/12929739
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/DaisyErina/pseuds/DaisyErina
Summary: A one shot series for (mostly gay) ships dedicated to my boyfriend.Keith x LanceRoy x EdAdrien x MarinetteYuuri x YurioBeast Boy x RavenBen x HarryConnor x Evan.90% Klance.





	1. Klance - Confessions

Disclaimer: I don't know any of the characters or fandoms in this or the upcoming chapters.  
A/N: So this was inspired by the movie Horns and a comment my boyfriend made that made my brain connect the two.

Title: Confessions.  
Fandom: Voltron.  
Ship: Keith x Lance.  
Summary: When Keith turns Galra, his ears supernaturally force anyone who looks at them to confess their deepest, darkest secret. Guess what happens when Lance sees them.  
Words: 1,524.

The black-haired paladin stood before his vanity mirror, a soft sigh escaping his lips as he reached up to run his hand along the soft, furry, purple ear that was protruding from the side of his head. These new ears were bigger, sticking upright and pointed at the ends. The purple-grey fur matched the purple-grey hue the rest of his skin had adopted, spreading across his face, down his chest, and all over his limbs.  
He had finally come to terms with his heritage, and the rest of the crew had promised not to treat him differently. The transition from human to Galra had been slow and gradual, giving everyone time to adjust to Keith's new appesrance, rather than shocking them all at once.  
But today was the first day Keith's ears had turned Galra, completing the look. Though his teammates had promised not to judge, he couldn't deny that he was terrified to face their reactions to his final transformation.  
With a huff, he tugged his jacket tighter around himself and shuffled out of his room.

On his way to the dining room, Keith ran smack dab into Pidge. The young brunette fell back on her rump with a groan of discomfort. Keith extended a gloved hand to help her up, which she gratefully accepted.  
Her eyes had closed on impact, and the first thing she saw upon opening them was a pair of furry, purple-grey cat-like ears. She blinked behind her glasses, staring at the appendages for a second before her gaze fell upon Keith's face. The latter's black brows were furrowed in concern, half expecting the young paladin to scream and run the other way after seeing him.  
Instead, a blush danced across Pidge's cheeks, and she rubbed the back of her head awkwardly. "Hey, Keith, uh... Can I tell you something?"  
Raising a brow in confusion, Keith nodded. "Sure."  
The brunette took in a breath, blinking before looking the red paladin in the face. "I have a really huge crush on Hunk and I think I have pretty much since the day we met but I know he'd never look at that way and I don't want to make things weird so you can't tell anyone okay?"  
Keith's mouth opened and closed repeatedly as he attempted to form a reply. When no words came to mind, he simply nodded, assuring his youngest teammate that her secret was safe with him.  
Pidge released the breath she hadn't realized she was holding and smiled brightly. "Thanks, Keith!"  
She then darted around him to continue down the hall to her destination.  
Keith shook his head, wondering what had prompted such a random confession from the otherwise cool-and-collected paladin.

He was stopped once again on his journey when he was noticed by Shiro who was exiting the bathroom.  
"Keith!" the oldest paladin greeted with a friendly smile. Just as the black-haired boy was about to return the greeting, he noticed Shiro's eyes glazing over the way Pidge's had when she caught side of his ears.  
Shiro's gaze was drawn to the furry appendages attached to Keith's head.  
"Did you know I have a tattoo?"  
Keith blinked, doing a mental double-take. "You... what? What tattoo?"  
Shiro reached down to the waistband of his jeans, unbuttoning them before pushing them down below his hips.  
"What are you doing??" Keith demanded, turning his head and raising his hand to block the view.  
"Showing you my tattoo," the older replied simply. Keith reluctantly glanced down to Shiro's partly exposed ass, and a bright patch of pink that looked remarkably like-  
"Shiro... Why is there a Pinkie Pie tattoo on your ass?"  
The oldest paladin quickly fastened his pants, covering the mark. With a deadpan expression, he replied, "I was eighteen once. I was young."  
The younger snorted. "Eighteen-year-old Shiro was a brony?"  
"Shut up," Shiro ordered. "Tell no one."  
He then maneuvered around Keith to head to his room. Keith stared after him, chewing his lower lip. Why were his friends suddenly admitting their deepest secrets? Was it a Galra power he hadn't known about? None of the Galras he'd ever fought had had such an ability.  
He mused that he ought to test it out, and continued down the hall in search of Hunk.

As to be expected, he found the yellow paladin in the kitchen, mixing some blue goo in a bowl.  
"Hey, Hunk," the Galra greeted, hopping up onto a stool that was stationed by the counter Hunk was working at.  
"Hey, man," the latter returned. "How's it going?"  
"Tell me something," Keith coaxed. "How do you really feel about Pidge?"  
Hunk would have denied the blush creeping across his skin. "Oh, you know. She's okay. She's a cool teammate, I guess. Super smart." Hunk finally looked up, and his eyes were glued to Keith's ears. His expression shifted, and words fell from his mouth before he could stop them. "I think she's beautiful and talented and really smart and I wanna ask her out but I don't think she'd ever be interested and I don't wanna ruin our friendship."  
He shook his head as though clearing his thoughts. "Why did I tell you that? You can't tell!"  
Keith exhaled a chuckle. "Thank you, Hunk. That was just the test I needed." He slid off the stood and headed for the door. Before he left,  turned to call over his shoulder. "By the way, ask her out. You won't ruin anything, I promise."  
Now he had to find Lance.

The blue paladin was in the training gym, fighting one of the combat robots. Keith lingered in the doorway, watching his teammate practice fight moves as he chewed his lower lip. Was he really going to confront Lance? Did he really have the confidence to see how Lance truly felt about him?  
His mind strayed from his goal as his gaze lingered on the brunet. Lance's white tank top clung to his chest with sweat, his toned abdomen evident beneath the thin fabric. The cloth was riding up on his hips, exposing his tanned skin. His blue sweatpants hung low on his hips, revealing the waistband of blue-and-black plaid boxers hiding under the pants.  
Keith bit his lower lip so hard he nearly drew blood as he watched Lance's body twist this way and that, bending backwards to avoid a blow from the training robot.  
Lance landed a punch to the robot's jaw, sending it flying across the room. With a triumphant yell, he thrusted his fist into the air before turning towards the door.  
"Hey, Mullet," he greeted. "Why are you staring at me?"  
Keith shook his head, taking a breath. He stepped forward, placing his hands on the brunet's shoulders. He bit back a shudder at the bold muscles that flexed beneath his fingers, turning and walking forward until Lance's back hit the wall.  
"What's gotten into you?" the blue paladin inquired before his eyes matched onto purple-grey Galra ears.  
Keith stood on his toes to accommodate the height difference between them, gazing into Lance's ocean blue eyes that were now wide with an uncertain expression.  
"W-what are you-"  
"Lance," the red paladin cut him off. "What would you do if I kissed you right now?" His voice was low and husky, a mix of emotions surging through his core as the image of a sweaty Lance stained his mind.  
Lance's gaze fell from Keith's ears and he stared into the older boy's darkened eyes. Lust filled his own as his hands rose to rest on the purple-grey arms that held him.  
"I'd kiss you back."  
A shiver ran up Keith's spine. That was all the confirmation he needed. He leaned in, smashing his lips against Lance's. He could taste the sweat lingering on his tanned skin, and a growl emanated deep in his throat. Tan hands fell from Keith's arms, reaching out to grasp his hips. His fingers slipped beneath the red t-shirt that the older paladin wore, the skin-to-skin contact earning a groan from both of them.  
Keith slid one hand up to Lance's short chocolate brown hair, tangling his fingers and tugging at the locks. The younger boy groaned, pulling his teammate closer by his hips. The red paladin rolled his hips against Lance's, drawing a low moan from the brunet's mouth.  
Keith pulled back for a breath, opening his eyes to glance at the brunet. Lance was staring back at him, mouth open, chest heaving with every breath.  
"You're mine," the older boy stated, dropping his hand to lace it with Lance's.  
The brunet smirked, lacing their fingers. "Prove it."  
Keith grinned, turning on his heel and leading Lance down the hall to his room.  
He suddenly became very fond of his Galra ears.


	2. Barry - The Prince and the Pirate

Title: The Prince and the Pirate  
Pairing: Harry Hook x King Ben  
Fandom: Descendants  
Summary: While held captive aboard Uma's ship, Ben develops a surprising attraction to the red leather-clad pirate in charge of keeping him imprisoned.  
Note: I know this plot has been done, but every single Harry x Ben fic I've read has been set in Auradon, so I wanted to do something different.  
Words: 3,079

A groan emerged from Ben's throat as he came to. A migraine throbbed in his skull, reminding him of the blunt blow to the back of his head that had caused him to lose consciousness in the first place. His hazel eyes fluttered open, his vision blurry until he blinked the grogginess away. His gaze wandered around the dark, damp room he'd been locked in. It looked vaguely like the lower deck of a pirate shop, but all Ben had to go on to reach that conclusion was various movies he'd seen. He'd never been on an actual ship.  
Until now, he supposed.  
Boots thumping against the floor caught Ben's attention, drawing his gaze up from the wooden planks he'd been staring at.  
"Ah, Princey's awake," a Scottish accent teased. Ben's eyes wandered up his captor's form. Black combat boots secured over black jeans that were torn to reveal scraps of the red boxers worn underneath. A slashed, faded white tank top beneath a grungy red leather trench coat. Tanned skin and bulging muscles. A tattered navy blue bandana and a black bicorn hat sat atop a mop of shaggy black hair.  
The prince's breath caught in his throat and his heart skipped a beat. The ocean blue eyes and confident smirk that met his gaze caused butterflies to flap relentlessly in his belly.  
"Who are you?" Ben managed around the hammering of his heart.  
The pirate removed his hat, bending forward slightly in a mock bow. "Harry Hook."

Shortly before noon, Harry strutted through the lower deck towards Ben. The prince held his head high, keeping his expression placid. He wasn't afraid of the pirate - though, he mused, he should be. It was his attraction to Harry, the way his breath hitched in his throat and his heart pounded against his ribs and his belly knotted itself up that had Ben struggling to maintain his Poker face.  
Whistling an unnamed tune, Harry sauntered around behind Ben. He dragged the curve of his hook along the brunet's arm, smirking at the way the limb shuddered at the contact. With one swing of his arm, his hook ripped through the ropes that had secured Ben's hands. The prince's brow furrowed in surprise and confusion as his hands fell free by his sides.  
"You're letting me go?"  
Harry grinned, his eyes darkening with mischief. "Not quite, Princey." He scooped up a spare rope in his hook, using his right hand to grasp both of Ben's. A shock sparked through them both as their skin touched, and Harry fumbled for a second as he stared at the prince.  
He shook his head, ignoring the tingly sensation radiating through his body. Ben didn't have that luxury - the tingly sensation was all he could focus on.  
"Captain needs ya up top if yer gonna be any good as leverage," the pirate explained, leading Ben up the upper deck of the ship. Once in sight of Uma, he all but threw Ben into the mast. The prince groaned at the ache making itself known in his spine, but when his eyes met Harry's, he saw an uncertain expression. A hint of sadness, it seemed. Remorse, perhaps, as though Harry didn't want to hurt Ben and had only been so rough because his captain had ordered him to.   
A sadistic grin settled on Uma's lips as she gazed upon the prince. There was no denying that Mal and friends would be at the ship, right at noon, ready to sacrifice whatever they had to in order to save Ben. Ben was flattered by their loyalty, but he wondered how they were going to get away with the exchange. Surely Mal wouldn't actually give Uma the wand... Right?  
When Mal arrived and the inevitable fight broke out between her and Uma, Ben found his focus to be a little... unfocused. Of course he was worried for Mal's safety, and the safety of her friends that he'd come to know. But his reluctant attraction to a certain cocky Scotsman had his gaze frantically darting around the ship, hoping that he was okay.  
Harry was fighting Jay, and that confident smirk was set in place. Ben chewed the inside of his lip as he watched them dance, uncertain of which side he should be rooting for. His brow furrowed in wonder as Jay snatched Harry's hook and threw it overboard. His eyes widened as he watched Harry dive in after it, ignoring the fight completely.  
Ben found himself wanting to scream after Harry in hopes that he was okay, but he knew he shouldn't.  
The chaos settled down. Uma called for Harry to untie Ben. The fight was over. Ben was roughly shoved forward as Mal passed the wand to Uma. The purple-haired girl threw her arms around the prince, silently conveying how worried she'd been. Though they had broken up a couple of months prior, Mal would never let anything bad happen to Ben, and vice versa.  
"We have to go," Evie told them as Uma tested the wand. As her expression shifted to anger and betrayal, Evie led her friends through the tunnel and away from the fight.  
Ben sat in the backseat with the girls as Jay drove the limo over the barrier. He knew he should be relieved that he was safe and back in Auradon, and that his friends had all survived the showdown. But Ben couldn't help but longingly gaze at the Isle through the back windshield of the car, chewing his lip and wondering if Harry was okay.  
Uma seemed like the type to not take failure lightly. The prince only hoped she wouldn't take her anger out on her first mate.

"You called for me?"  
Ben glanced up from his mountain of paperwork to see Evie leaning against the door frame.  
"Evie, yes," he greeted. "Come in."  
The blue-haired teen sauntered into the room, standing beside Ben's desk. She crossed her arms in a questioning manner, raising a brow at Ben as though silently asking why he'd called her in.  
"Have you been working on your list of children who deserves invitations off the Isle?" he inquired, looking up asteady rhythm her with a hopeful spark in his hazel eyes.  
Her eyes widened and she nodded, reaching into the pocket of her coat to produce a folded up piece of notebook paper. "It's right here."  
He took the page from her and unfolded it, scanning its contents. His heart sunk at one particular name that wasn't on it. "I had a thought, and I want your opinion as my advisor and a former resident of the Isle."  
She nodded. "Okay."  
Ben blew out a breath. "What about Uma's crew? Not Uma herself - I tried to offer her a place here and she nearly threw me overboard. But I think her crew mates could benefit from a change of scenery."  
Evie hesitated, raising a brow. "You mean the sons of Captain Hook and Gaston?"  
Ben's heart fluttered at the thought. "Yes, them. I know Gaston is my father's enemy, but his son seemed to be the least evil person we faced. I don't think he likes fighting. What if Uma's crew members aren't evil - they just don't have the freedom to go against her?"  
Evie held her breath before exhaling. "I suppose it's possible. But there's no way they'll go against Uma by coming to Auradon. When we came, it was seen as a betrayal to the Isle. Harry and Gil would never agree."  
"What if I talk to them?" Ben asked. "I know it's crazy but I want to try."  
"Talk to them?!" Evie exclaimed. "You mean you want to go back to the Isle? After you were kidnapped and nearly fed to sharks?"  
Ben winced, wishing he could explain why he felt so strongly about recruiting Harry and Gil. "Yes. Please, Evie. I can't explain it but I think I can change their minds."  
With a sigh, Evie shook her head. "Fine, Ben. I'll help you get back to the Isle. But if they don't accept, you have to let it go."  
Ben nodded. "Deal."

Evie led Ben out to the limo. Despite the prince's pleas, Evie had informed Mal and the boys of their plan. She didn't want them to worry about Ben's sudden absence.   
The blue-haired girl had barely managed to convince them not to tag along. She insisted that it would be easier for her and Ben to go alone.  
Within minutes, they were back on the Isle. Ben had a better understanding of it, and he knew better than to approach anyone. Evie led him to Ursula's, where Uma's crew spent their time when they weren't pirating.   
"Let me go in first," Evie told the prince. "I'll make sure Uma isn't around. The last thing we need is you being kidnapped again."  
Ben nodded. He hid in the shadowed alley behind Urusla's, waiting for Evie's signal. He wouldn't make the mistake of wandering off again.  
The back door opened, and he ducked behind a dumpster. He stifled a sigh of relief when it was Evie exiting the restaurant, Harry and Him in tow.  
"Alright, Ben," Evie said. "They're all yours. But make it fast. I don't know how long Uma will be gone and we don't need her coming to look for them."  
Ben nodded, thanking her before she headed further into the alley.  
"Princey," Harry greeted with a grin. "Nice ta see ya again."  
"What are you doing back?" Gil inquired.  
"I've come to personally extend an invitation to Auradon to each of you," Ben said.   
Gil's eyes widened, and the sparkle of hope that twinkled in them could be seen a mile away. Harry's heart skipped a beat at the offer, but living on the Isle had taught him to keep his true emotions hidden.  
"Really?" Gil asked, nearly shaking wth excitement.  
Ben chuckled softly. "Really."  
"Why?" Harry questioned, his eyes narrowing. "We just kidnapped ya and held ya hostage. Why would ya wanna save us?"  
"I don't think either of you are truly evil," Ben stated. "I was watching the battle. Gil was the most reluctant fighter I've ever seen. And you gave up the fight completely to save your hook. Correct me if I'm wrong, but I don't think either of you prefer this life. You just don't want to betray Uma."  
Harry's gaze fell to his boots while Gil nodded eagerly.  
"So, what?" Harry asked quietly. "We just walk outta here? Walk out on Uma and our parents?"  
Fear flashed in Gil's eyes as his gaze darted between the prince and the pirate.  
Ben placed a hand on Gil's shoulder. "No one can hurt you in Auradon. You'd be safe from Uma and your parents."  
Excitement returned and the blond grinned.  
Ben smiled softly. "Go meet Evie by the limo."  
Gil nodded, turning to run down the alley.  
The prince turned his attention to Harry, whose gaze had returned to the ground. "What do you say?"  
Harry scoffed. "I can't."  
Ben sighed. "Please, Harry. I want you to come to Auradon. It would be good for you. You wouldn't be under Uma's thumb anymore."  
Fear and uncertainty gripped Harry's heart and he snapped his head up, hiding behind anger. "What if I like bein' under her thumb, huh? What then? Don't pretend ya know me, Princey. I'm not yer good deed for the day. Don't pretend yer here for my own good."  
Ben's brow furrowed as he stared at the pirate. He stepped forward, placing his hands on Harry's leather-clad shoulders. "Don't pretend you don't feel it too." Harry's eyes widened of their own accord, and Ben knew he was on the right track. "Something... sparked... between us when we met. For reasons I couldn't explain, I wanted you to be safe during the fight. I wanted to call out to you when you dove into the water. I wanted to stay and make sure you were okay instead of leaving with the others. I know you felt that spark. Harry, please... Come to Auradon."  
The pirate's anger melted away as he gazed into the shining hazel eyes of the prince. His heart hammered in his chest and he wanted nothing more than to accept his offer.  
"Princey..."  
"Ben," he corrected softly. "Call me Ben."  
"Ben..." Harry repeated, and suddenly everything fell into place. With a weak smile, he nodded. "Alright. I accept."

The rest of Auradon was less kind regarding the two new transfer students. Mal and friends despised Harry and Gil simply for having worked with Uma, and Harry was intimidating enough that the residents of Auradon would run in the opposite direction upon sight.  
Ben spent most, if not all of his free time with the descendant of Hook. He found that his day was brightened whenever he got to leave his paperwork and spend quality time with Harry.  
Having finally finished his work for the day, Ben shuffled out of the building and into the courtyard. Though Harry liked to believe he was mysterious and unpredictable, Ben had learned his habits early on, and always knew where to find him regardless of what mood he was in.  
One of the first traits Ben had uncovered was that when Harry was missing the Isle, rather than perch himself by a window and stare at it, he would take solace in sitting by the lake behind the school, gazing into the glistening waters. When he was reminiscing, he'd discard his boots and stick his feet in. If he was in a state of self pity (which he would never admit to anyone but Ben could easily tell), he would pull his knees up to his chest and wrap his arms around them.  
That was where Ben found him now. Harry sat on the shore, jeans rolled up to his knees, boots sitting beside him. He lightly swung his feet back and forth, disrupting the stillness of the water. His torso was slightly leaned back, broad chest supported by toned arms. His head was tilted forward, his gaze cast down at his lap, shaggy black locks falling over his eyes.  
The prince smiled softly at the sight, quieting his steps as to not disturb the pirate's thoughts. He sauntered over to Harry and dropped down, folding his legs beneath him and resting his weight on one arm.  
"Hey, Pirate," the brunet greeted.  
A smirk blossomed on the other's lips. "That you, Princey?"  
Ben chuckled softly. "Who else?"  
Harry lifted his head and opened his eyes, turning to look at the prince with a soft, genuine smile. "Come looking for me, did ya?"  
Ben nodded. "Of course I did. I always do."  
"And somehow ya always know where ta find me."  
A blush danced across the brunet's cheeks. "I, uh... I pay attention."  
Harry hummed softly in response. "And what exactly do ya pay attention to?"  
Ben hesitated before answering. "How you feel. How you react. I... I don't mean to sound like a stalker, but I know that you always come out here when you're feeling homesick. When you're angry, you stay in your room. When you're in a good mood..."  
"I visit you," the pirate finished with a smirk. "You've done yer research, Princey."  
"Is that... okay?"  
Harry studied Ben's face; the way he chewed his lip when he was nervous, the way his hazel eyes gazed up at the pirate with a silent plea to be accepted, the way his head tilted down ever so slightly to make his expression appear even more innocent.  
Ben worried that he'd gone too far - overstepped his bounds. Would Harry be disturbed by the knowledge that Ben knew his mannerisms and methods of coping? Would he be flattered that the prince paid such close attention?  
Harry's soft smile grew wider. "It's more than okay."  
Matching his smile, Ben shifted closer, sitting beside Harry so close that he could feel the pirate's body heat. The black-haired boy smirked, draping an arm around the brunet's shoulders.  
"You were right," he murmured, turning his gaze to the water.  
"Hmm?" Ben murmured, looking up at the other. "Right about what?"  
Harry turned to meet his gaze. "About that spark when we first met. It's the same spark I feel every time you're around. It's like an electric shock in my chest and the closer ya are, the stronger it gets. I didn't like it at first, because it was foreign... But now..."  
"Now?" Ben pressed softly, suddenly aware that Harry had shifted even closer, and he could now fl the pirate's breath on his face.  
"Now I need it ta survive. I don't know what I'd do without it. It's like... My lifeline. I need it. I need... You."  
"You have me," the brunet whispered.  
Harry's resolve crumbled and he lurched forward, crashing his lips against Ben's. Ben returned the kiss with a passion he didn't know he had, his arms wrapping around the pirate's waist. Harry's arms secured around Ben's shoulders, one hand sliding into his honey brown locks and tugging not so gently. Ben rested a hand on Harry's hip, fingers digging into flesh and bone, surely leaving light bruises.  
Harry's desperation calmed when he realized Ben was responding, and his kisses slowed to a more gentle, loving pace. His hand fell from Ben's locks to caress his face just before he pulled away.  
"Thank you, Ben," he murmured against the prince's lips, "for getting me off that island."  
"You're welcome," Ben returned before pulling him into another kiss.

When dusk settled over Auradon, Ben convinced his pirate that it was time to head inside. He stood, his legs cramped from spending so much time on the ground, and offered a hand to Harry. The pirate accepted it, rising with a stretch of his back, and followed his prince to his dorm.  
Once in his room, Ben changed into a pair of blue plaid pajama pants and a white tank top. He offered black sweatpants and a black tank to Harry, who accepted the garments and stripped down to wear them.  
The pair settled into Ben's king sized bed, pulling the feather comforter over them to contain their warmth. The prince lay on his back with the pirate snuggled into his side, Harry's head on his chest and strong arms secured around his torso. Ben's arms held Harry close, allowing both of them to drift off into peaceful sleep.


	3. Tree Boys - Socks

Title: Socks  
Fandom: Dear Evan Hansen.  
Pairing: Connor Murphy x Evan Hansen.  
Summary: Evan gets cold. Connor doesn't.  
Words: 943.

Evan Hansen simply couldn't understand how his roommate (and boyfriend) Connor Murphy could pad around the house with bare feet. Evan himself always had to include socks in his ensemble, even in the summer, else his feet be comparable to the frozen toes of an animated Dalmatian puppy.

It was winter in their small town, and while that only meant a slightly thicker hoodie for the human furnace that was Connor, Evan required a bit more accommodation.   
He shuffled into the living room, wool socks on his feet, Connor's sweatpants clinging loosely to his hips, and his torso wrapped in a thick, fuzzy sweater that Connor had gotten him for Christmas one year.  
The taller boy glanced up from where he sat on the couch reading a book an a smirk twitched on his lips. "Cold, babe?"  
Evan stuck out his tongue as he sauntered into the adjacent kitchen to fetch a couple of mugs from the cupboard and the milk from the fridge. "It's snowing, Connor. That means it's cold."  
Connor rose from his spot and followed the slightly shorter boy, humming at the cool temperature of the linoleum under his feet. He knew immediately what Evan was up to and fetched the tub of hot cocoa powder from another cupboard while evan heated the milk in a pot on the stove.  
As Evan stood before his project, Connor took the opportunity to stand behind him, long arms wrapping around a slender waist, his chin resting on his boyfriend's shoulder.  
Evan exhaled a hum of content as he leaned back, nuzzling his nose into Connor's jaw.  
The milk bubbled angrily in the pot, so Evan reluctantly left his boyfriend's embrace and wrapped his fingers around the handle, securing his hold before pouring the steaming liquid into each of the mugs. Connor popped open the tub of cocoa and spooned generous amounts into each mug, stirring the contents before putting the tub away.  
Connor fetched marshmallows from the same cupboard while Evan grabbed the whipped cream from the fridge. They decorated each mug of cocoa and put their respective tools away before shuffling into the living room.  
Connor turned on the TV and grabbed the Xbox controller as he sat down. Evan pulled the blanket from the back of the couch and draped it across their laps before snuggling into Connor's side. The taller brunet manned the controller with his right hand so his left arm could wrap around Evan's shoulders. The smaller boy smiled in approval, sipping his cocoa while Connor's thumb scrolled through their "recently watched" list on Netflix.  
They settled on Supernatural, which Evan had been hesitant to watch at first. Connor finally coaxed him into it, and after a few episodes, Evan ceased his complaints, even requesting it at times.  
Setting the controller aside, Connor picked up his mug and bright it to his lips. He hummed softly as the warm liquid traveled down his throat, and he tugged Evan impossibly closer to his body.  
With his cocoa completely consumed, Evan set his empty mug on the coffee table. He turned his body towards his boyfriend, lifting his legs to rest them across the other's lap. He tucked his hands under the blanket, pulling the fleece up to his shoulders, and rested his head on Connor's chest.  
The taller brunet smiled at the position change. Finishing off his own beverage, he rested the mug beside Evan's. His arm around Evan tightened, and his other arm laid softly atop his boyfriend's legs, absent-mindedly rubbing soft circles into the limb through the soft fabric of his sweats.   
As the day went on, a storm began to brew outside. The wind howled angrily, and snow could be seen piling up on the streets through the living room window. Evan shivered, tugging the blanket tighter around his body.  
Their small, cheap apartment had spotty heating. It only really worked in the bedroom, but they made do with blankets and layers in other parts of the unit. Now, however, with the temperature dropping, all Evan wanted was to cuddle his boyfriend in the warmth of their bed, nestled under a mound of comforters, in the only heated room in the apartment.  
As if reading his boyfriend's mind, Connor pressed a few buttons, turning off the Xbox and the TV simultaneously. He then hooked his right arm under Evan's legs and pulled him close, standing upright. Evan glanced up at the taller brunet, thick brows furrowed softly.  
Connor simply smiled and carried him to the bedroom.  
He laid Evan down on the bed before fetching the pile of covers that had been kicked to the floor. One by one, he made the bed over Evan's shivering frame, taking care to tuck him in snuggly as he finished. He connected his phone to the Bluetooth speaker that sat on the bedside table, starting their playlist of favorite songs. He then slipped under the covers and pulled his boyfriend into his arms.  
Evan immediately snuggled into his warmth, tucking his head into Connor's neck. Connor hummed, his slender fingers carding through his boyfriend's short, toffee brown hair. Evan's arms secured around Connor, fisting in his shirt.   
Connor pressed a tender kiss to the shorter boy's forehead, letting his lips linger for a moment. By now, he was far beyond warm enough, with his body heat collaborating with the layers of blankets. But his focus was on Evan, and he wouldn't dare shift position or remove a layer of it meant his boyfriend stayed comfortable.


	4. Klance - Red/Blue

Title: Red/Blue  
Fandom: Voltron.  
Pairing: Keith x Lance.  
Summary: The paladins decide to have a Secret Santa party. Keith and Lance draw each other's names.  
Words: 1,625.  
A/N: I've seen this prompt list for a lot of Klance stories and I decided to divide the prompts between my ships.

It was December in space, and being in space didn't stop the paladins of Voltron from decorating the ship for Christmas. Twinkle lights and garland were strung along the walls and ceiling, and sprigs of mistletoe were hung in every doorway. They had found a planet comprised primarily of trees, and Shiro helped Lance bring a tree back to the ship.  
Keith had been skeptical about celebrating Christmas in space, having had rough memories of the holiday as a child. But Lance's excitement was more than enough for him to suck up his uncertainties and get into the spirit for the duration of the month.  
When the ship landed on a planet that greatly resembled an Earth shopping mall, Coran allowed the team to go shopping for gifts. Shiro suggested that Coran tag along so that the team could split into groups of two and stay safe while hunting for their perfect presents.  
Pidge had suggested doing a Secret Santa so that they each only had to find one gift rather than several. They managed to split into couples without revealing who drew whose name, and, currency in hand, they headed out to the mall.

Shiro, having drawn Coran's name, wandered around alongside Keith, who had drawn Lance.   
"What in the world am I supposed to get Coran?" Shiro inquired. "What do Alteans even like?"  
Keith hummed absent-mindedly, his dark eyes scanning the windows of the shops they passed. Everything screamed, "Weird." "Nothing screamed, "Lance."  
The oldest paladin glanced down at his comrade and a sly smirk twitched on his lips. "You want to get him something nice, don't you?"  
"I... Uh, what?" Keith stuttered, a blush creeping across his cheeks. "Who?"  
"Lance," Shiro chuckled. "You want to get him something special, not just a random trinket."  
Keith exhaled a sigh. "Yeah, I do. But I have no idea where to start."  
"Well, we have to get creative," the older mused. "This certainly isn't anything like the malls on Earth."  
The younger nodded. "If I can't tell Lance how I feel, the least I can do is get him a gift he'll actually like."  
"I think Christmas is the perfect time to tell him."  
Keith's eyes widened like saucers as he started up at his mentor. "No. No, no, no. I can't do that."  
"Why not? He'll be in a good mood until New Year's. There's no way he'll reject you," Shiro reasoned.  
"Shiro..." Keith chewed his lower lip. "I can't."  
The older paladin released a sigh, deciding not to press the issue. He nearly lost Keith in the crowd as the black-haired boy can't to a sudden halt, gazing into the display window of what appeared to be a clothing shop. Shiro spun on his heel and stood behind Keith, following his stare.  
Draped over a mannequin was a fuzzy royal blue sweater. A cherry red strip wound around the cuffs of the sleeves and the bottom hem, and it extended downwards so far that it was sure to be long enough for Lance's beanpole figure.  
"It's perfect," Keith breathed before shuffling into the shop. Shiro chuckled softly, following suit. He watched as the young paladin hunted through the racks of clothes, finding the royal blue sweater in Lance's size and taking it up to the counter. Unsure of how to count alien currency, he dropped a pile of bills and coins into the cashier's hands. The cashier thanked him, accepting the amount, and stuffed the sweater into a bag. With the ghost of a smile on his lips, Keith scampered back out into the mall.

"How am I supposed to shop for Pidge? She's into all that science-y stuff like the rest of you. I'm not that good at it, man. I'm a chef. I know food, not space."  
Hunk had been ranting since he drew Pidge's name for Secret Santa, and Lance had since tuned him out.  
"So, what are you gonna get for Keith?"  
Lance froze in his spot, his body going rigid and a blush blossoming on his tanned cheeks. "I..."  
Hunk chuckled. "You have no idea."  
Lance deflated. "Yeah, no. I have no idea."  
The thicker paladin nodded sympathetically. "We'll find something."  
The taller boy pouted. "I just want it to be good, you know? I want to get him something he'll like."  
"Ooh, what about your affections?" Hunk teased. "You could get him a card that confesses your undying love."  
"Shut up," Lance grumbled. "I'm not confessing anything. He doesn't like me like that."  
"I think he does," the yellow paladin countered.  
The blue paladin exhaled a sigh. "Keith doesn't have any feelings to begin with. Why would he have feelings for me?"  
"You don't see the way he looks at you," Hunk shrugged.   
Lance hummed in disagreement. His baby blues were suddenly drawn to a clothing store - or, more specifically, the mannequin in the display window.   
It was dressed in a cherry red fuzzy sweater, the cuffs of the sleeves and the bottom hem lined with royal blue strips. Lance was sure it was something Keith would wear, and he liked to think that the blue was a subtle representation of himself.  
He tugged Hunk behind him as he rushed into the store, rummaging through the piles of sweaters that sat neatly folded atop tables. He found the sweater from the window in Keith's size and took it to the register, giving the cashier way more coins than necessary. But he couldn't translate alien money, and he didn't care how much he spent as long as Keith liked his gift.  
With a grin, he left the store.

By nightfall, the paladins turned to the ship with their gifts. Everyone cautiously ran to their respective rooms for wrapping, not wanting anyone else to see what they'd bought.

On Christmas morning, everyone gathered in what served as a living room. The tree, decked out with lights and popcorn and strange Altean trinkets, stood in the corner, and beneath it was a small pile of presents.  
The paladins plus Coran and Allura (Coran had bought an extra gift for her, unable to leave her out of the celebration) sat in a circle on the floor. Pidge sat closest to the tree, passing out gifts so that everyone could open them together.  
Lance tore into his wrapping paper, barely catching the tag that read, "To Sharp Shooter, from Hothead." He produced a box, and with an excited grin, he lifted the lid. His jaw dropped nearly to the floor as the twin to the present he'd bought Keith stared back at him from its place inside the box.  
His slender fingers gripped the soft fabric as he lifted it to get a better look. He all but tore off the navy blue hoodie he'd been wearing and immediately slipped his new sweater on over his wife beater tank top. His eye caught Keith's for a second before the latter turned his attention back to his own gift.  
It was poorly wrapped - the product rolled into a bundle and haphazardly cradled in paper, corners sticking out and strips of tape stuck on in random spots. Keith chuckled at the card - "To Mullet, from The Tailor."   
Inside the mess of paper was a cherry red sweater - the twin to Lance's. A smirk tugged at Keith's lips as his fingers grasped the fuzzy fabric, his thumb running over the blue strip around the sleeve. Following Lance, he shrugged out of his black hoodie and tugged on his new sweater, knowing he'd be wearing it as often as he could get away with.  
When all of the gifts were open, the paladins cleaned up the scraps of paper and tape from the floor. Hunk had made Christmas lunch, so the crew made their way to the dining room. Keith and Lance were the last out, and the taller boy gripped the other's sleeve in the doorway   
Keith raised a brow. "What is it, Lance?" He hoped he didn't sound as shaky as he felt.  
The brunet glanced up, and Keith followed his gaze. Lance had stopped them to stand under the mistletoe - had that been intentional?  
A tan, shaking hand rested on Keith's cheek, and the shorter boy leaned into his touch.   
"You know the tradition," Lance whispered, his eyes gazing into Keith's.  
"Then do it," the black-haired paladin countered just as quietly.  
With a surge of confidence, Lance leaned in, crashing his lips against Keith's. The latter's hands found the taller boy's hips, gripping them through the fabric of his sweater. The blue paladin tangled a hair in his comrade's raven locks, keeping him in place and tilting his head to deepen the kiss.  
They weren't aware of their audience until the sound of someone clearing their throat broke them apart. Lance smirked proudly as Keith turned his head, hiding his blush in the taller boy's sweater.  
Shiro chuckled softly at the two of them. "It's about time."  
It was Lance's turn to blush as Shiro and the others applauded, congratulating the new couple. They turned to continue on the path to the dining room, Lance and Keith lingering in the back. Lance draped an arm around Keith's shoulders, to which Keith responded by securing his arm around Lance's waist.   
The rest of the day was spent laughing and enjoying one another's company, and pretending to be disgusted by how cute Keith and Lance were together.


	5. MarieEdd - Sensitivity

Title: Sensitivity  
Pairing: Double D x Marie Kanker  
Fandom: Ed, Edd n’ Eddy  
Summary: When Marie has a fight with her sisters, a certain sockhead is there to comfort her.  
Words: 1,045  
A/N: I had never intended to write for this fandom but boyfriend and I were discussing our cosplay and the idea popped into my head and I mentally wrote the first paragraph.

Marie exhaled a sigh as she dropped her weight onto a log that sat on the ground on the far side of the park. She drew her knees up to her chest and wrapped her thin arms tightly around them. Her pale face was hidden partly by her cobalt blue locks and partly by being buried in her army green cargo-clad knees. Her slender fingers tightly gripped the fabric of her pants as she recalled the happenings that led to her sitting outside, alone, shivering in the cold but too proud to go home and fetch a jacket.  
Marie had had another fight with her sisters. As all three of them were short-tempered, this wasn’t an unusual occurrence. But the subject of the fight was new, and Marie was more sensitive than she let people witness, so her sister’s cruel words had injured her heart.  
Lee, the oldest of the trio, was undeniably envious that the middle child was the only one who’d made any progress in their pursuits of dating one of the Eds. Marie had recently come clean to her sisters (and her boyfriend had come clean to the rest of the cul-de-sac) that she was officially dating Double D. No one supported them. Lee and May despised their sister for finally getting what she wanted when they didn’t have a chance at getting their crushes’ hearts. Ed, Eddy, and the rest of their friends mocked Double D for “settling” with a Kanker sister.  
Lee had called Marie a traitor and then insisted that Double D had only given in to dating her out of fear and not because he had genuine feelings for her. Marie had screamed, called her older sister a long string of obscenities, and stormed out the door, wanting to get as far away from their trailer as humanly possible before her wall of toughness broke and she let the tears come crashing through.  
Marie glanced up, lifting her head just enough to ensure that the park was truly and completely empty before tucking her face away in her knees. A sob fell from her lips, the first sound she’d made since slamming the door to her trailer. Once the first cry came, the rest poured out of her like a rainstorm, and she didn’t even try to stop it. Her body shook with sobs, tears pouring from her eyes and staining her cargo pants. Goosebumps raised on her arms from the cold, but she was too distracted by the hot tears streaming down her face. In the back of her mind, she knew that Lee was jealous. She knew that her sisters were trying to make her feel bad for being happy. But a small part of her brain wondered if they had been right. Her insecurities, the ones that she suppressed in front of everyone, including her sisters, bubbled to the surface, making her question every conversation and every encounter she’d had with Double D.  
Did he really like her? Was he just afraid? Was he faking it?  
Soft footsteps sounded on the gravel, and Marie froze. Who was coming to the park in this chilly autumn weather? Whoever it was, she certainly wouldn’t let them see her cry. She tensed up, prepared to tell the intruder to go back to the cul-de-sac and leave her the hell alone.   
The intruder sat beside her, and she immediately recognized the warmth and scent of freshly laundered clothes.  
Double D.  
A hand rested on her back, rubbing soft, soothing circles into her skin through her thin black tank top. Upon feeling how cold she was, the arm connected to the hand wrapped around her, tugging her to a warm chest.   
“What’s wrong?” a soft voice inquired, and the familiarity of it nearly sent Marie into tears again. She turned, angling her body towards his, and buried her face in his pale neck. He wrapped both arms around her, a frown settling on his lips when he heard her sob. He took hold of her legs and draped them over his lap, gently rocking her back and forth until her crying subsided and her breathing evened out.  
“Is it your sisters?” Double D questioned quietly. Marie sighed softly. He always knew what she was thinking.   
She managed a small nod.  
Double D exhaled a sigh. “Did they find out about me?”  
Again, she nodded.  
“I told my friends, too.”  
She glanced up at him. Surely he wouldn’t bother telling his friends if he were ashamed of her?  
He smiled softly, lifting a hand to caress her cheek and wipe away the tear tracks. “They weren’t happy about it. Most of the cul-de-sac hates me now, but they’ll get over it.”  
Marie’s thoughts wandered back to what Lee had said, and her lower lip quivered with the threat of fresh tears.  
“Shhh,” Double D cooed, resting his head on hers. He pressed a gentle kiss to her forehead. “What did your sisters say?”  
She inhaled deeply, trying to calm herself enough to speak. “Lee called me a traitor, and she said that you’re only dating me because you’re afraid of me.”  
Double D snorted a laugh. “Marie, I’m not afraid of you. You’re very intimidating, but I’ve gotten to know the real you. I want to date you. I like you. Lee is just mad that Eddy runs at the sight of her.”  
Marie allowed herself a small giggle. “I knew she was just angry and trying to upset me but…”  
“You were concerned she might be right,” Double D finished for her. He knew about her insecurities and she had expressed being uncertain of his feelings for her when their relationship began. His hand grasped her chin, tilting her head up to meet his gaze. He rested his forehead on hers.  
“I love you, Marie Kanker. I don’t care what anyone else says.”  
With that, he pressed his lips to hers, gently pouring all of his emotions into a kiss. Marie returned it, hesitantly at first. Once she felt how much he cared for her, she pressed back, wrapping her arms around his neck and settling herself on his lap. His arms wound around her waist, and there they stayed, sitting in the park, sharing kisses and cuddles until nightfall.


	6. Klance - A Peaceful Switch

Title: A Peaceful Switch  
Fandom: Voltron  
Pairing: Keith x Lance  
Summary: The team visits a peaceful planet where fighting is strictly forbidden. When they witness Keith and Lance spitting hostile words at one another, they cast a spell that forces the boys to work together and get along.  
Words: 6,089.  
A/N: THE LONGEST CHAPTER I’VE EVER WRITTEN GUYS.

Another day, another training drill, another planet to visit in hopes of strengthening the Voltron alliance. The paladins had grown accustomed to, and bored of, this routine. Visit a planet. Make nice with the locals. Encourage their belief in Voltron. Convince them to join the fight against Zarkon.  
“Where are we headed this time?” Keith inquired, stifling a sigh as he sat in the cockpit of the red lion.  
“A planet called Baara,” Coran’s chipper voice answered through the coms. “The Baarans are very peaceful creatures, so you shouldn’t run into any trouble.”  
“Aren’t most of the alien races we save peaceful creatures?” Pidge questioned. “Isn’t that why we save them?”  
“The Baarans have a strict policy against violence,” Allura explained. “They practice powerful magic, and if so much as an argument breaks out on their planet, they cast spells to immediately rectify it.”  
“Could they just cast spells on the Galra, then?” Shiro wondered aloud.  
“Well, not exactly,” Allura countered, and the paladins could hear an uncomfortable shift in her voice. “They can’t just magic the hatred away – that doesn’t exist. They cast bonding spells upon the fighting parties that last until they can get along again. Plus, the parties in question have to be close enough for physical contact – Zarkon and his generals never get that close when they attack.”  
The paladins exhaled a collective sigh, and a light bulb sparked in Shiro’s brain. “Keith, Lance, for the love of quiznacks, can you try and get along on this mission? I don’t think any of us want to experience first-hand what kind of ‘bonding spells’ the Baarans like to use.”  
“Don’t tell me, tell him,” Lance countered. “I’m very likeable.”  
“Maybe when you’re asleep and not talking,” Keith scoffed.  
Shiro groaned, leaning back in his seat. It was a nice hope while it lasted.

All five robotic lions landed as gently as they could atop the surface of the planet Baara. Five lion mouths opened to allow their paladins to exit, and Shiro shot the other four of them with a stern Dad Stare, to which they all shrank back into themselves.  
“Baarans,” Shiro greeted the small, brightly colored aliens. “We are the paladins of Voltron. We have come to request your allegiance with the Voltron alliance.”  
Keith hummed softly to himself as he watched his mentor converse with the Baarans. He’d always admired Shiro’s peaceful nature. The raven-haired paladin remained lost in his thoughts until a cheer rang out through the Baarans and he shook himself awake.  
“What’s going on?” he inquired.  
“We demand a game,” King Rulak decreed, holding up a spherical object that looked very much like a beach ball. “The rules are simple. Do not let the sorb touch the surface. Keep hitting it back and forth. Whichever team loses the sorb and lets it fall loses.”  
“The fate of the Voltron alliance rests in a game of Don’t Let the Balloon Touch the Ground?” Pidge asked incredulously.  
Lance grinned widely. “Let’s do this. I own this game.”  
Keith rolled his eyes at the brunet’s confidence but readied himself. He had no idea what balloons had to do with it, or why Pidge, Lance, and Hunk were so excited.  
Lance caught his wary gaze and lifted a thin brow. “You didn’t play many games as a child, did you?”  
The red paladin shook his head. “Orphan, remember?”  
A pang of sadness stabbed at the blue paladin’s heart. Coming from such a large family, he couldn’t imagine not having anyone to play with. He was brought back to reality when the sorb ricocheted off of his unruly brown locks and bounded towards Keith. The latter fumbled to catch it, swatting it towards the team of Baarans. They cheered before hitting it back, watching it slice through the air with more force than a beach ball should have. Pidge launched into the air to beat it back towards the aliens. They climbed atop one another for a height advantage, swatting it towards Keith. Just as the red paladin reached up to hit it, Lance jumped in front of him, desperate for glory. He crashed into Keith and sent them both tumbling to the ground. The sorb fell, bouncing once or twice against the surface before rolling away. Lance’s ocean blue eyes watched it sit still on the ground, where it was not supposed to be, and he gasped, turning a death glare towards his teammate.  
“Look what you did! You made us lose!”  
Keith’s thick brows furrowed in response. “Me? I had the hit before you tackled me!”  
“I knew you were going to miss,” Lance defended, rising to his feet. Keith followed suit, dusting himself off.  
“You just didn’t want the focus to be on someone else,” the raven-haired boy accused. “You can’t handle not being the center of attention.”  
King Rulak’s eyes narrowed, and Shiro’s widened.  
“Lance, Keith, guys, come on…”  
Rulak raised his hands, and everyone quieted. “The red and blue paladins of Voltron cannot be peaceful. I must bond them.”  
The black and brown-haired boys shook their heads and waved their hands.  
“No, no, that’s okay,” Keith countered desperately.  
“We’re totally peaceful! Best friends, right, Keith?” Lance chuckled nervously, slinging an arm around Keith’s shoulders.  
Rulak shook his head as his second-in-command brought him something that looked like a purple sage stick. Rulak blew on it to ignite a flame before approaching the boys and waving it around, engulfing them in soft purple smoke. He chanted a few words that none of the paladins, save for Pidge, could ever dream of understanding, before the sage stick extinguished itself and Rulak stepped back.  
“Tomorrow morning, you will begin to bond. Only when you have accepted and understood one another will the spell dissipate.”  
Keith and Lance shared a cautious glance. Everything seemed fine. Everything felt fine.  
“What happens tomorrow morning?” Shiro inquired.  
He could have sworn a smirk flashed on Rulak’s face. “You shall see.”

The next morning, Keith awoke surprisingly calm. He hadn’t slept so soundly in years – he was normally tossing and turning, waking constantly throughout the night, lucky if his collective moments of sleep totaled a few hours. He inhaled a yawn and stretched his arms over his head- ow! Had that wall always been there?  
He sat up in his bed, groggy with sleep, and looked around. Why did he feel so… tall? He glanced down at the cobalt blue comforter that covered his lap – what happened to his red one? Was he so tired last night that he slept in the wrong room?  
Swinging his legs over the edge of the bed, dread flooded him. Instead of black sweatpants and socked feet, he was met with the sight of long, lean, tanned legs, barely covered by white boxers. He stood slowly, shakily, taking in the room around him. He was definitely taller. But how? And why was he tan?”  
A glance at the bedside table showed him a couple of framed photos which were definitely not his. One was a group photo of the paladins. Another was a photo filled with tanned, happy faces who all bared a remarkable resemblance to Lance. His family, perhaps?  
Why the hell was he in Lance’s room?

Lance groaned as he awoke, deciding that he wouldn’t be getting anymore sleep. He usually conked out for the night, snoring and drooling, but last night, all he could do was toss and turn, unable to sleep comfortably. Did he had a nightmare that he couldn’t remember?  
He stretched and sat up, tilting his head to crack his neck. Huh, that was weird. His neck didn’t make a single pop. He glanced down, raising a brow at the red blanket that covered him. Had he sent his own blue one to be washed and forgotten about it?  
He moved to stand, and everything in his room seemed bigger than it was supposed to be. Or… was he shorter? How the quiznack? He stretched his arms out in front of him and nearly passed out at the pale skin he found in place of his own long, tanned limbs. His eyes darted around the room in search of a clue. His photos were missing from the nightstand. His clothes no longer littered the floor. Keith’s jacket was hung up on the wall-  
Why was Keith’s jacket hanging on his wall??  
With a great deal of hesitation, Lance shuffled towards the mirror that hung by his door. He closed his eyes and inhaled deeply, steadying himself before gazing into the mirror.  
He’d expected his own face. Long chin, curved nose, sun-kissed skin. Chestnut brown locks unruly from sleep, ocean blue eyes tired but alert. Toned muscles visible due to the fact that he never slept with a shirt on.  
Instead, he saw a straight nose and sharp jawline. Violet eyes and thick, raven locks. He was a few inches shorter than he was supposed to be, and while he was still shirtless, the toned chest before him was pale and smooth.  
Keith. He was looking at Keith.  
He lifted a hand, watching as Keith’s opposing hand followed his movements exactly. He then held his hand to his face, watching it instead of his reflection. It was pale and calloused and real.  
He was in Keith’s body. And Keith was in Lance’s.

“Shiro!”  
The Dad paladin glanced up from the helmet he was polishing at the sound of Keith’s voice. He’d never heard the antisocial teen sound so distressed.  
“What’s wrong, Keith?”  
‘Keith’ stopped short in his tracks. Inside his mind, Lance was screaming. He sat down on the couch beside Shiro. “Uh… I need to tell you something.”  
Shiro set down his helmet. “What is it? Are you okay? You look mortified. Another nightmare?”  
Nightmare? Lance thought to himself. Is that why Keith can’t sleep? Poor guy… No! Focus!  
“Uh, no…” he trailed off. Should he tell Shiro? Would that help? He exhaled a sigh. “Remember the Baarans and their ‘bonding spells’?”  
Shiro nodded slowly.  
Lance cringed. “I think they made Keith and I switch bodies.”  
The black paladin blinked once. Twice. Thrice. Then he doubled over, clutching his stomach as laughter absorbed every breath in his body. Tears formed in the corners of his eyes as he assessed the situation, eventually finding his breath and dulling his laughter to soft chuckled.  
When he finally composed himself, Keith- or rather, Lance- had his arms crossed and a stern glare on his face.  
“Are you done?”  
Shiro exploded with laughter once more. “I-I’m sorry, Lance. You just… You sounded just like him! And your face!”  
“Yeah, that’s the problem,” Lance scoffed. “I can’t look like this! I don’t wanna be Keith!”  
“You think I want to be you?” a familiar voice called from the hallway.  
Lance and Shiro looked up, and while Lance cringed, Shiro clapped a hand over his mouth to stifle his chuckling.  
“How do we fix this?” Keith demanded, leaning against the wall. He desperately tried to ignore how toned Lance’s arms were as he crossed them over his chest.  
“You heard King Rulak,” Shiro sobered. “When you learn how to get along, the spell will wear off.”  
The boys groaned in unison. 

After returning to his proper room, Lance gathered up some clothes- because there was no way he was dressing like an emo kid- and headed to the shower room. He turned on the hot water, watching as steam crawled up the walls before he stripped down. He tried not to glance down as he stepped under the stream, letting the water cascade down his back. He hummed as it soothed his muscles, and he wondered why Keith was so tense all of the time. He hadn’t realized it until the switch, but now he just felt anxious and exhausted. He glanced at the wall of shower products and hummed at the familiarity – at least he still had his routine. He poured a dollop of shampoo into his palm and scrubbed it into his hair before frowning. Keith had about ten times as much hair as Lance, and that would require a bit more product. Pouring another dollop, and another, and another, he finally procured the correct amount and lathered Keith’s mullet as best he could. Once he rinsed it out, he plucked up his conditioner and poured a generous amount into his hand.  
“This shit is thick,” he grumbled to himself as he conditioned his hair. He took a moment to glance down at the limbs he was stuck with until he and Keith could get along, and he hummed in thought. His hands were calloused, probably from all of his fight training. His abs were toned as well. His skin was terrifyingly dry – Lance assumed it was the result of living in the desert, but it mortified him. How could he take so little care of his skin?  
No longer concerned about sharing shower products, Lance picked up his exfoliating body wash and scrubbed his entire figure. He had to help Keith and his dry skin. As his hands traveled down solely for the purpose of cleaning, he caught sight of Keith’s lower body.  
“Well, shit…” he hissed. “That’s why he’s better than me.”  
Once out of the shower, he began his usual facial routine. Cleanser, scrub, moisturizer. He spent nearly an hour in the bathroom, but he was certain that Keith would thank him later, once they switched back and the red paladin felt how soft his skin was.

Keith nearly hit his head on his doorway as he shuffled into his room. He was in desperate need of a shower, though the thought turned his cheeks the color of his lion. He had dreamed of seeing Lance naked for a long time, but this was definitely not how.  
He gathered some clothes and headed to his shower, turning on the water and stripping down. He had to duck as he stepped in so that his head wouldn’t hit the curtain rod. A hum sounded in his throat as the warm water washed over him. As he picked up his shampoo, he realized that his head felt light – Lance had such short hair, it must make showering a walk in the park. He wouldn’t need more than a fraction of the shampoo and conditioner that he usually used.  
As he washed himself, he took in Lance’s figure. His arms and legs were long and lean – Keith already knew that. But he was surprise by how much muscle they contained. Lance always had a noodly appearance, and Keith hadn’t expected him to have so much depth. He mused that the Cuban must have been on more than one sports team in school before joining the Garrison. You didn’t get a body like Lance’s sitting at home and playing video games.  
He lathered himself in body wash and continued downward, his blush darkening impossibly as he took in what his rival had to offer between his legs.  
“At least now I know,” Keith murmured to himself, washing off the soap and turning off the water. He wrapped a towel around himself and dried off before dressing in sweats and a tank top and heading back to his room.

“Hey, Lance!” Hunk smiled as Keith shuffled into the kitchen.  
“Hey, Hunk,” Keith greeted slowly.  
“So,” Hunk continued, stuffing his mouth full of food goo. “Have you told Keith how you feel about him, yet?”  
“I… what?”  
“Well, the Baarans cast a bonding spell, and there’s no closer bonding than a love confession.” Hunk waggled his eyebrows at his friend. “You’re really not taking advantage of this opportunity? Now’s the perfect time to tell him!”  
“Oh, right,” Keith nodded, a blush dancing across his tan cheeks as his heart pounded in his chest. “I, uh… I’ll do that.”  
Hunk grinned. “That’s my man!”

Lance was seated on the couch in the lounge room, talking idly with Pidge. Hunk and Keith emerged from the kitchen, laughing and discussing the potential of food goo. Lance glanced up to view his own body sauntering into the room, torso muscled visible through the wife beater tank, sweat pants hanging lowly on his hips. He felt a wave of discomfort inside his own boxers, and he glanced down to see a tent forming. His brow furrowed and a blush stained his pale cheeks as he looked back up at Keith. He crossed his legs to hide his embarrassment and wondered how often Keith felt that way when Lance entered the room. Was he always this… attracted to him? Or was it a weird side effect of the spell?  
“Hey, Pidge,” Hunk called when he saw Keith and Lance staring at one another. “Come help me with this cube that the Baarans gave us.”  
Shrugging, Pidge rose from her seat and followed the yellow paladin out of the room, leaving Keith and Lance alone.  
Keith sat awkwardly beside Lance. “This sucks.”  
Lance nodded eagerly. “Totally sucks. Why did the bonding spell have to switch our bodies?”  
Keith leaned back, his tank top riding up ever-so-slightly. “How the hell do we switch them back?”  
“Shiro said we have to get along, bond,” Lance sighed. “I guess it’s like that old saying about not understanding someone until you’ve walked a mile in their shoes.”  
“I had to take a shower like this,” Keith grimaced. “I think that trumps walking in your shoes.”  
Lance nodded in agreement. “Well, we could talk. Learn more about each other. I mean, I never knew you had so many scars.”  
“I never knew you were so fit,” Keith murmured softly. “Yeah, I guess we could talk.”  
“Come on,” Lance said, standing. Keith followed suit, shuffling after him down the hall.

They returned to Lance’s room, and Lance sat on his bed, patting the space beside him for Keith to do the same.  
“It’s weird, looking at my own face when I talk,” Lance frowned.  
“Tell me about it,” Keith groaned. “How do you deal with being this tall? I have to duck through every single doorway.”  
The blue paladin barked out a laugh. “I’m used to it. How do you keep up with this, though?” he asked, running a hand through his fluffy hair. “It’s so heavy!”  
“I’m used to it,” Keith countered with a chuckle. “It’s always been thick.”  
“Why is your skin so dry?” Lance demanded, extending pale arms out before him. “No offense, dude, but I’ve met armadillos with softer skin than you.”  
Keith raised a brow in amusement. “Meet a lot of armadillos, do you?”  
Lance faltered for a moment. “I- ugh! That’s not what I meant. I just mean… You’re the one with the dry skin!”  
Keith shrugged nonchalantly. “I don’t pay much attention to how my skin feels. Usually more focused on fight training.”  
Lance shuddered at the thought. “I put immense care into my skin. Run your hand across your face- I mean, you know, my face.”  
The red paladin narrowed his eyes curiously before doing as he was told. He lifted a tan hand and ran it down his cheek, eyes widening at the silky texture he met there.  
Lance’s lips stretched into a proud grin. “See?”  
“Fine, you have nice skin,” Keith shrugged. “I don’t see why that’s important.”  
The blue paladin sputtered. He opened his mouth to retort, but finding no reply, he closed it, eyes widened as he gazed at, well, himself. “Okay, that’s it,” he stated. He rose from his bed and grasped Keith’s wrist, dragging him out of the room.  
“What’s it?” Keith questioned cautiously. “Where are we going?”  
They arrived at Lance’s bathroom, and Keith nearly choked at the sight of just how many beauty products the Cuban boy owned.  
“What the hell is all this for?” he inquired.  
Lance turned to him with a smirk. He gestured to a cluster of about seven different bottles and tubes. “Those are all for my face.” Another three bottles sat nearby. “Those are lotions.” He then turned and gestured to the vast collection inside the shower. “Those are all hair and body products.”  
Keith simply stared at him. “Why do you need so much stuff? I thought only girls put this much time into their looks.”  
Lance feigned a wounded expression, which was most comical to see expressed on Keith’s features. “I’m going to show you how to take care of your skin, buddy. Come on, we’ll start with a cleanser.”  
He plucked up a bottle of transparent pink liquid and a cloth. He poured a small amount of liquid onto the cloth before handing it to Keith. The latter simply stared at it before looking back at Lance.  
Lance sighed, pouring cleanser onto a second cloth. He then turned towards the mirror, gesturing for Keith to do the same, and dragged the cloth across his face, allowing the cleanser to collect any dirt he may have accumulated during the day.  
Keith felt awfully feminine as he copied the other boy’s actions, but seeing Lance’s face peering back at him made him feel like he was in a masquerade, and no one knew who he really was, so he didn’t feel quite as embarrassed.  
“Now, the scrub,” Lance stated. He selected a tube full of mint green goo and squeezed a fair amount onto his hand, and the same onto Keith’s. He then held his hands under the water and rubbed them together to form a lather. He lifted his hands to his face and smeared the suds across his skin, closing his eyes as to not rub soap into them. Keith followed suit, stifling the voice in his head that told him to cease whatever the hell he was doing. Besides, the minty scrubby stuff smelled really good, and Keith noticed, with a blush on his cheeks, that this must be why Lance always smelled nice. Yes, he absolutely noticed that Lance smelled nice.  
“And now,” Lance stated as he splashed water on his face to rinse away the suds. He grasped a towel to dry off with before picking up the tube of pale pink lotion. “Moisturizer.”  
Keith cringed. He’d heard that word before, but it had always sounded so feminine. “Do I have to?”  
Lance deadpanned. “Unless you want your skin to be rougher than a cat’s tongue, yes, you do.”  
Keith opened his mouth to protest, but he didn’t have much of an argument. He’d already admitted that he didn’t take care of his skin – it probably was rougher than a cat’s tongue. Though, he was currently tending to Lance’s face, so his own skin wouldn’t be harmed if he didn’t participate. But he didn’t particularly want to incur the wrath of the man who did this to himself on a regular basis.  
He accepted the dollop of lotion that Lance dropped into his palm, and though he had a slight idea of how to apply it, he watched Lance first anyway, just in case there was a special ritual of moisturizing your face that he was unfamiliar with.  
Lance smeared the pale pink goo all over his skin, rubbing it in with a contented hum. Keith complied, and he wouldn’t admit under physical torture that he enjoyed the sensations it left on his face. Lance rubbed off any excess lotion between his hands, and Keith caught on, doing the same.  
“Wasn’t that nice?” Lance beamed, expecting praise. Keith didn’t want to disappoint that bubbly face, even though it was currently his own face, but he also wasn’t ready to become spa buddies with the blue paladin.  
“Uh, sure,” he shrugged.  
Lance’s eyes narrowed. “You liked it. I know you did.”

“What why that’s important.”  
The blue paladin sputtered. He opened his mouth to retort, but finding no reply, he closed it, eyes widened as he gazed at, well, himself. “Okay, that’s it,” he stated. He rose from his bed and grasped Keith’s wrist, dragging him out of the room.  
“What’s it?” Keith questioned cautiously. “Where are we going?”  
They arrived at Lance’s bathroom, and Keith nearly choked at the sight of just how many beauty products the Cuban boy owned.  
“What the hell is all this for?” he inquired.  
Lance turned to him with a smirk. He gestured to a cluster of about seven different bottles and tubes. “Those are all for my face.” Another three bottles sat nearby. “Those are lotions.” He then turned and gestured to the vast collection inside the shower. “Those are all hair and body products.”  
Keith simply stared at him. “Why do you need so much stuff? I thought only girls put this much time into their looks.”  
Lance feigned a wounded expression, which was most comical to see expressed on Keith’s features. “I’m going to show you how to take care of your skin, buddy. Come on, we’ll start with a cleanser.”  
He plucked up a bottle of transparent pink liquid and a cloth. He poured a small amount of liquid onto the cloth before handing it to Keith. The latter simply stared at it before looking back at Lance.  
Lance sighed, pouring cleanser onto a second cloth. He then turned towards the mirror, gesturing for Keith to do the same, and dragged the cloth across his face, allowing the cleanser to collect any dirt he may have accumulated during the day.  
Keith felt awfully feminine as he copied the other boy’s actions, but seeing Lance’s face peering back at him made him feel like he was in a masquerade, and no one knew who he really was, so he didn’t feel quite as embarrassed.  
“Now, the scrub,” Lance stated. He selected a tube full of mint green goo and squeezed a fair amount onto his hand, and the same onto Keith’s. He then held his hands under the water and rubbed them together to form a lather. He lifted his hands to his face and smeared the suds across his skin, closing his eyes as to not rub soap into them. Keith followed suit, stifling the voice in his head that told him to cease whatever the hell he was doing. Besides, the minty scrubby stuff smelled really good, and Keith noticed, with a blush on his cheeks, that this must be why Lance always smelled nice. Yes, he absolutely noticed that Lance smelled nice.  
“And now,” Lance stated as he splashed water on his face to rinse away the suds. He grasped a towel to dry off with before picking up the tube of pale pink lotion. “Moisturizer.”  
Keith cringed. He’d heard that word before, but it had always sounded so feminine. “Do I have to?”  
Lance deadpanned. “Unless you want your skin to be rougher than a cat’s tongue, yes, you do.”  
Keith opened his mouth to protest, but he didn’t have much of an argument. He’d already admitted that he didn’t take care of his skin – it probably was rougher than a cat’s tongue. Though, he was currently tending to Lance’s face, so his own skin wouldn’t be harmed if he didn’t participate. But he didn’t particularly want to incur the wrath of the man who did this to himself on a regular basis.  
He accepted the dollop of lotion that Lance dropped into his palm, and though he had a slight idea of how to apply it, he watched Lance first anyway, just in case there was a special ritual of moisturizing your face that he was unfamiliar with.  
Lance smeared the pale pink goo all over his skin, rubbing it in with a contented hum. Keith complied, and he wouldn’t admit under physical torture that he enjoyed the sensations it left on his face. Lance rubbed off any excess lotion between his hands, and Keith caught on, doing the same.  
“Wasn’t that nice?” Lance beamed, expecting praise. Keith didn’t want to disappoint that bubbly face, even though it was currently his own face, but he also wasn’t ready to become spa buddies with the blue paladin.  
“Uh, sure,” he shrugged.  
Lance’s eyes narrowed. “You liked it. I know you did.”

“What did you do to my hair?!”  
Everyone heard Keith’s screech, though it had come through in Lance’s voice. A day after their bathroom bonding, the other paladins had found out one way or another that Keith and Lance had switched bodies. Shiro, Hunk, and Pidge all took great amusement in their situation, offering little advice to help speed up the spell’s course.  
Lance, still in Keith’s body, was currently sporting a rather attractive man-bun. He had brushed Keith’s unruly mullet and had managed to find a hairtie buried at the bottom of his belongings. His raven locks were pulled back to the top of his head and secured lazily into a small bun, a few stray hairs sticking out here and there. Clearly, Keith had never tried tying his hair up – the mullet had flat out refused for a good hour before Lance had forced it to comply.  
“I tied it up,” Lance shrugged innocently as he sauntered into the kitchen. “Your hair is a mess, Keith. I don’t know how you leave it in your face all the time.”  
“I like it in my face,” Keith growled through gritted teeth.  
“If it makes you feel any better, your hair fought back,” Lance countered. “Took me an hour to do this.”  
“That was my hair telling you to knock it off,” Keith pouted. He had no way to retaliate – Lance’s hair was barely short enough to require washing, let alone brushing or styling.  
“Don’t even think what you’re thinking, Mullet,” Lance warned, narrowing his eyes.  
Keith offered him a smirk. “You’re the one with the Mullet now.”  
Realization washed over Lance’s Keith face and he exhaled a childish whine. “No fair.”

“How long do you think this spell will last?” Hunk inquired as he stood behind a counter in the kitchen, mixing alien ingredients into a bowl and hoping for the best.  
“A while,” Pidge replied, adjusting her glasses. “They can’t get along for more than a few ticks. It’s like as soon as they realize they’re being civil toward one another, they have to make up for it with extra fighting.”  
Shiro nodded slowly. “Pidge is right. I wish those two could just knock it off. With how badly they get along, they could be stuck forever.”  
“It would be so much easier if they would just confess,” Hunk sighed, spooning the mixture onto a baking sheet.  
“Yeah, it wou- wait, what do you mean?” Pidge inquired, turning to narrow her eyes at the brunet.  
Hunk shrugged. “Lance confided in me like several quintants ago that he hates Keith so much because it’s easier than being in love with him, which he totally is. He’ll just never admit it, thinking Keith thoroughly hates his guts.”  
Shiro smirked. “Funny you mention that, Hunk. I recall Keith admitting to me that he was so mean to Lance because he refused to admit how much he admired him.”  
Pidge’s gaze darted between Hunk and Shiro, finally landing on the latter. “Keith has feelings? How did you get him to admit them?”  
The team leader laughed. “Keith will discuss just about anything when he’s sleep-deprived. Get him really tired and ask him about Lance – he won’t shut up until he passes out.”  
The tech genius of the team grinned slyly, her golden eyes shining beneath her glasses. “I have an idea.”

Exhausted, the paladins returned to the castle, clad in battle armor with sweat dripping from their brows. They had spent an entire day practicing Voltron drills, and it had taken more effort than usual to form Voltron and produce various bayard-given weapons with Lance and Keith in each other’s bodies. They had managed to pilot their own lions, since the robotic cats sensed their paladin’s souls, but the controls had been off. Though Red and Blue could feel Keith and Lance, respectively, they too were confused by the switch, and a little hesitant to cooperate.  
The five paladins collapsed on various pieces of furniture in the lounge deck. Shiro had wanted them to bond as a team before running off to their rooms and showers. Keith, clad in blue paladin armor as his red armor didn’t fit Lance’s lanky frame, was nearly asleep as he leaned back against the cushions. Shiro and Pidge shared a sneaky glance – that was just the state they wanted Keith to be in.  
Lance inhaled a yawn, lifting a pale hand to cover it. “Can we go to bed now?”  
“Nah, we should talk,” Shiro insisted. Lance sat to his left while Keith was on his right, head full of short brown hair falling on his shoulder as he gave up on trying to stay awake.  
Pidge sat on Keith’s other side. “Hey, Keith. Who’s your favorite paladin?”  
“Don’t have one,” came the red paladin’s sleepy mumble.  
“Aww, sure you do,” the green paladin grinned. “Think about it. Who do you like the most?”  
Shiro and Hunk waited with bated breath for Keith’s reply.”  
“Mnn… like Lance…”  
Lance, for his part, was conked out, head thrown back against the back of the couch, lips parted slightly. Shiro shimmied out of his spot between them, allowing Keith to fall against Lance’s shoulder. He turned and curled into the warm chest under him, wrapping his arms around Lance’s. Pidge stifled a snicker as she rose from the couch and shuffled away, not wanting to wake either of them. Hunk followed Pidge and Shiro out of the room.

Keith awoke warm. Slightly uncomfortable, but as he shifted his body, he discovered that he’d fallen asleep in his armor. I must have been exhausted… he mused to himself. He’d never passed out in his armor before. A glance down at his chest had his thick brows furrowing in confusion. Why was his armor blue… Oh. He and Lance were still under that damn spell.  
Speaking of Lance…  
A glance to the left told Keith that the warmth that had lulled him to sleep was, well, his own chest. Lance, in Keith’s body, was still asleep beside him, one arm now limp at his side when before it had been wrapped around Keith.  
The red paladin rose quickly and shuffled down the hall towards his room. He took his usual dark grey t-shirt and black jeans from his closet before heading the bathroom to shower.

By the time he was ready for the day, brown locks sticking up in odd directions and t-shirt just barely reaching his hips- because Lance was tall- Lance had already risen and showered as well. His blue-and-grey baseball shirt hung over his ass, and his blue light wash jeans were scrunched up at his ankles. Damn their height difference, he mused in his head, though he’d always thought it was cute. He enjoyed tilting his head down to meet Keith’s eyes, the feeling of authority and protectiveness that came with being taller than the red paladin. How it would feel to take his pale face in his hands and brush that damn mullet out of his eyes and press his lips to-  
Stop that, Lance scolded himself. Never going to happen.

“Uh, guys?” Hunk said hesitantly as he sat in the lounge deck with Pidge and Shiro. “I remember something else about Lance confessing his feelings for Keith to me.”  
Shiro lifted a brow. “What is it, Hunk?”  
The dark-haired paladin blushed. “Keith might know about it. The day after we came back from Baara, I saw Lance in the kitchen and, since they were supposed to be bonding, I asked him if he told Keith how he felt. Except it was Keith in Lance’s body, and I didn’t know that, so I kinda accidentally told Keith.”  
Pidge exhaled a laugh. “That is the best mistake you’ve ever made, Hunk.”  
Shiro allowed himself a small chuckle. “Well, those two should be figuring themselves out soon. They’re both crushing on each other, and if Keith knows for sure that Lance likes him back, he might finally do something about it.”  
The other two nodded in agreement, hoping that their leader was right.

“We need to talk.”  
Hearing his own voice startled Lance out of his thoughts, and he looked up from his lap. Keith lingered in the doorway, his clothes just a touch too small for Lance’s body, an unreadable expression on his tanned features. Lance nodded simply, gesturing for Keith to come into his room and sit down. Keith awkwardly complied, dropping onto the bed beside Lance. “The day after we went to Baara, when this switching mess first happened…” Keith began, trailing off and letting his eyes wander around the room. “I went into the kitchen and Hunk started talking to me. He didn’t know I was me; he thought he was talking to you.” Inhale. Exhale. Stare at his lap. “He asked if you had ever confessed your feelings to me.” Lance stared at his own face, gulping audibly. “He… he did?” Keith nodded. “I just said no, because what the hell else was I supposed to say? And he left it at that. But I couldn’t stop thinking about it.” “Suppose it’s time to come clean, then,” Lance sighed. “Keith… I don’t think I ever hated you. I was always attracted to you, but you were too cool for me, so I made up this dumb rivalry to get your attention, because there was no way you’d ever look in my direction, much less be my friend. As we started working together as paladins, I realized that I didn’t just admire you. I fell in love with you.” Keith swallowed, lifting his gaze to meet Lance’s. “I was always so short tempered with you because I was afraid that if I were too nice, I’d let loose something personal, like how I truly felt. I thought that the best way to keep you from finding out how attracted I am to you would be keeping you at arm’s length. But then I just wanted to protect you, and I didn’t have a valid reason to because we’re supposed to hate each other…” He exhaled a sigh. “I’m in love with you, too.” A soft hum sounded throughout the room, and purple smoke surrounded the boys. They each found themselves dizzy and off-balance, but before too long, they were once again seated on Lance’s bed. Only now… “We’re back!” Lance exclaimed. He patted himself down and gazed at his tanned limbs, ensuring that he was truly back in his own body. Keith exhaled a sigh of relief, running a hand through his thick raven locks. Lance scooted closer and rested a hand on Keith’s thigh. Keith turned, nearly brushing his nose against the Cuban’s. “What now?” the red paladin inquired breathlessly. “This,” Lance countered. He lifted a hand to rest it on Keith’s face, holding him close as he leaned in. He connected their lips without hesitation, humming into the kiss. His free hand found Keith’s hair, tangling in the dark strands and tugging gently. The red paladin groaned in response, shifting closer until he was straddling his companion’s lap, running calloused hands down his toned chest. Lance’s tongue poked through Keith’s slightly parted lips, invading his mouth without waiting for permission (not that Keith would have denied him). Keith growled, wrestling the brunet’s tongue with his own, going so far as to take the muscles between his teeth and suck on it. A whimper sounded in Lance’s throat, and his nails scraped the base of Keith’s neck. The paler boy ground his hips against Lance’s, fisting his hands in his shirt, drawing him impossibly closer. The tan hand that had been on Keith’s thigh slid around behind him, spreading his fingers to grasp as much of the red paladin’s ass as he could. The kiss broke as both boys were in desperate need of air. Their foreheads rested together as they panted in unison, sapphire eyes gazing into amethyst. “Shit,” Lance hissed as he struggled to catch his breath. “All the time we wasted fighting,” Keith panted, “when we could have been doing that.” “Sounds like we got a lot to make up for,” the Cuban grinned, drawing his partner into another kiss. Shiro was the first to question why he hadn’t seen Keith or Lance since he left them on the couch the night before. He shuffled down the hall towards Lance’s room, having already checked Keith’s and found it empty. He could only hope that the boys had found some way to bond by now, knowing they wouldn’t last much longer trapped in each other’s forms. He stopped at Lance’s door, preparing to knock when he found it wide open. “Ah- Keith!” The sight that met Shiro had all of his blood rushing to his face. He turned on his heel and stormed back down the hall, preparing to warn his ship mates not to venture anywhere near Lance’s room.


	7. Klance - Galtea 1

Galtea  
A/N: Galran Prince Keith x Altean Prince Lance AU. Based on a roleplay with my boyfriend.

Lance awoke early, much earlier than he was used to. The sun had barely risen, casting a warm red glow across the sky. A yawn claimed Lance’s lips as he stretched his arms above his head and sat up in his bed. With a sigh, he rose from his bundle of blankets and crossed the room to his closet, rummaging through his wardrobe in order to get ready for the day. He opted for simple, comfortable pants that hugged his waist and cinched around his ankles, saving his shirt for after his morning routine. Strapping on his shoes, he shuffled out of his room and headed down the hall towards the training gym. Though he was a prince, Lance enjoyed practicing his fighting abilities, wanting to prepared should the kingdom ever fall under attack. He refused to be a helpless pretty prince.  
Another sigh tumbled from his lips as he came to terms with the fact that today was his twenty-first birthday. For years, King Coran of Altea had been sorting out a peace treaty with King Zarkon of the Galran Kingdom. Later that afternoon, the royal families were meant to meet in Zarkon’s palace to discuss the final details of their agreement. Prince Lance was betrothed to Zarkon’s son, Prince Keith, though the two had never met.  
Shaking those thoughts out of his head, Lance glanced up at the ceiling. “Begin simulation level ten.”

Keith awoke at dawn, as he always did. His amethyst eyes gazed up at the ceiling for a long moment before he exhaled a sigh of defeat. Today was the day – the day he was expected to meet his betrothed for the first time and begin their wedding plans. He had turned twenty-one some months before, and their families wanted to wait until Lance also reached what both the Alteans and Galra considered to be proper ruling age before they began their planning.   
The dark-haired prince mused that many people happily anticipated planning their weddings, but it just felt like work to Keith. He had no interest in marriage itself, especially to someone he didn’t know. Still, he was the prince, and he would do what was required of him for the good of his kingdom.  
He rose from his bed and dressed in simple clothing, sauntering out of his room and heading to the training gym before he bothered with breakfast. Though the Galra Kingdom had an entire army of well-trained guards, Keith enjoyed practicing with the fight simulation bots to keep his own skills up to par. He despised useless princes who couldn’t manage a single thing for themselves. Besides that, King Zarkon had strict rules about every inhabitant of his kingdom being a capable fighter, especially his two sons.  
Keith was the younger of the two. His older brother, Lotor, was desperate for the crown, but Zarkon felt that Keith had a more level head. Lotor was a strong fighter, and he had a habit of fighting first. Zarkon was exhausted from deca-phoebs of battling kingdoms. He wanted the heir to the Galran throne to be a diplomat, not a brute.

Lance panted for breath as he destroyed yet another training bot, hurling it across the room. It crashed into a wall, and an automatic voice announced, “Level forty complete.”  
The brunet took a breather, leaning against the wall with a hand over his chest. A flash of white in his peripheral vision caught his eye and he turned to find his older sister, Allura, standing in the doorway. Her arms were crossed, and her thin brows were angled downward in frustration.  
“What have I done now?” Lance demanded, crossing his own arms and allowing a pout to form on his lips.  
Allura entered the room and snatched her brother’s wrist, dragging him behind her. “You shouldn’t be wasting your energy in here, Lance. You’re meeting your betrothed in a few vargas. You need to go get ready.”  
The brunet growled, tugging his arm hard enough to pull it from her grasp. “I don’t need a reminder that my freedom is being taken from me,” he snapped, turning in the opposite direction of where Allura was headed. “Just leave me alone!” He stormed down the hall, leaving a shocked and slightly offended princess behind.

The training machine was broken and scratched from how hard Keith had been fighting it. Finally deciding that it had had enough, he ended the training session and fled the room, heading back to his own chambers for a shower. He despised attending royal services unclean, and he knew Zarkon would never allow him to meet his fiancé while he was dripping with sweat.   
After his shower, he dressed in a black poet shirt beneath a deep purple tunic. Loose black pants covered his legs and black leather boots with red and purple accents held his feet. A blood red sash was wrapped around his waist, holding the tunic in place. His unruly raven hair was brushed and his fluffy lavender ears were soft as they stuck out from the sides of his head.  
It’s time, he thought to himself, reluctantly leaving his room.

Lance took the long tumbled from his lips as he came to terms with the fact that today was his twenty-first birthday. For years, King Coran of Altea had been sorting out a peace treaty with King Zarkon of the Galran Kingdom. Later that afternoon, the royal families were meant to meet in Zarkon’s palace to discuss the final details of their agreement. Prince Lance was betrothed to Zarkon’s son, Prince Keith, though the two had never met.  
Shaking those thoughts out of his head, Lance glanced up at the ceiling. “Begin simulation level ten.”

Keith awoke at dawn, as he always did. His amethyst eyes gazed up at the ceiling for a long moment before he exhaled a sigh of defeat. Today was the day – the day he was expected to meet his betrothed for the first time and begin their wedding plans. He had turned twenty-one some months before, and their families wanted to wait until Lance also reached what both the Alteans and Galra considered to be proper ruling age before they began their planning.   
The dark-haired prince mused that many people happily anticipated planning their weddings, but it just felt like work to Keith. He had no interest in marriage itself, especially to someone he didn’t know. Still, he was the prince, and he would do what was required of him for the good of his kingdom.  
He rose from his bed and dressed in simple clothing, sauntering out of his room and heading to the training gym before he bothered with breakfast. Though the Galra Kingdom had an entire army of well-trained guards, Keith enjoyed practicing with the fight simulation bots to keep his own skills up to par. He despised useless princes who couldn’t manage a single thing for themselves. Besides that, King Zarkon had strict rules about every inhabitant of his kingdom being a capable fighter, especially his two sons.  
Keith was the younger of the two. His older brother, Lotor, was desperate for the crown, but Zarkon felt that Keith had a more level head. Lotor was a strong fighter, and he had a habit of fighting first. Zarkon was exhausted from deca-phoebs of battling kingdoms. He wanted the heir to the Galran throne to be a diplomat, not a brute.

Lance panted for breath as he destroyed yet another training bot, hurling it across the room. It crashed into a wall, and an automatic voice announced, “Level forty complete.”  
The brunet took a breather, leaning against the wall with a hand over his chest. A flash of white in his peripheral vision caught his eye and he turned to find his older sister, Allura, standing in the doorway. Her arms were crossed, and her thin brows were angled downward in frustration.  
“What have I done now?” Lance demanded, crossing his own arms and allowing a pout to form on his lips.  
Allura entered the room and snatched her brother’s wrist, dragging him behind her. “You shouldn’t be wasting your energy in here, Lance. You’re meeting your betrothed in a few vargas. You need to go get ready.”  
The brunet growled, tugging his arm hard enough to pull it from her grasp. “I don’t need a reminder that my freedom is being taken from me,” he snapped, turning in the opposite direction of where Allura was headed. “Just leave me alone!” He stormed down the hall, leaving a shocked and slightly offended princess behind.

The training machine was broken and scratched from how hard Keith had been fighting it. Finally deciding that it had had enough, he ended the training session and fled the room, heading back to his own chambers for a shower. He despised attending royal services unclean, and he knew Zarkon would never allow him to meet his fiancé while he was dripping with sweat.   
After his shower, he dressed in a black poet shirt beneath a deep purple tunic. Loose black pants covered his legs and black leather boots with red and purple accents held his feet. A blood red sash was wrapped around his waist, holding the tunic in place. His unruly raven hair was brushed and his fluffy lavender ears were soft as they stuck out from the sides of his head.  
It’s time, he thought to himself, reluctantly leaving his room.

Lance took the long route back to his room, not wanting to run into his sister again on his way to getting ready. He hopped into the shower, hoping the hot water would calm his nerves. He scrubbed his hair and body until they were cleaner than they’d ever been, and he knew without a doubt that he was stalling. With a sigh, he left the shower and dried off, sifting through his closet for appropriate attire. He dressed in a long-sleeved royal blue tunic that was lined in silver, thick black leggings, and black boots with blue accents. Atop his head sat a simple crown, silver wires wrapping around one another with blue jewels adorning the front. It had been the same one his mother had worn on the day of her coronation, and it symbolized Altean empowerment.   
Lance glanced at his reflection in the mirror and inhaled deeply. “I guess this is it.”  
As the prince left his room, he pursed his lips and exhaled a high-pitched whistle. A soft sound came from the corner of his room, and within moments, a large lioness stood by his side. Her name was Blue, and she had been by Lance’s side since he was a child. She had stuck with him through everything, and there was no way he was going to spend a day making wedding plans with his betrothed without her.

Keith met his father and brother in the throne room. King Zarkon was seated in his throne, crown set firmly atop his head. To his right sat Queen Haggar, and Prince Lotor stood beside her, dressed elegantly in an ensemble similar to Keith’s, accented by a long purple cape. To Zarkon’s left, where Keith’s chair was, sat Kosmo, the young prince’s pet wolf and loyal bodyguard. They’d been together since Keith was a baby.  
Haggar rose from her seat, a small crown in her hands. Keith dipped his head forward as he was supposed to, allowing the crown to be placed atop his thick locks. It was a smaller version of Zarkon’s, with fewer jewels and ornaments. The structure was identical – simple and golden, with intricate black designs and stones of amethyst.  
As Haggar returned to her seat, Keith approached his own. He sat down with a soft sigh on his lips, and Kosmo was immediately attentive.  
His fiancé would be arriving much too soon.


	8. Klance - Galtea 2

Within moments, a servant arrived at the throne room. He bowed respectfully, waiting for Zarkon’s nod of approval before he spoke.  
“Sire, they have arrived.”  
Zarkon waved him away, and he went to retrieve their guests. Coran, Allura, and Lance soon entered the throne room, Blue padding softly behind them. Lance inhaled deeply as they stood in the doorway, awaiting announcement.  
“Welcome,” Queen Haggar greeted, rising from her seat. “King Coran, Prince Lance, Princess Allura – please enter.”  
Keith fidgeted in his seat. The prince before him was decidedly handsome, with his tanned skin and bright blue eyes. But this was a matter of business, and he couldn’t get distracted.  
Coran smiled brightly, bowing respectfully. Lance followed suit, and Allura curtsied.  
“Thank you, your majesty,” Coran returned.  
Lance’s gaze found Prince Keith, and he gulped inaudibly. The dark-haired prince was more handsome than he had anticipated.  
Zarkon nodded to his son, and Keith returned it before rising to his feet.   
“I am King Zarkon,” he greeted. “This is my wife, Queen Haggar, and my sons, Lotor and Keith.”  
Keith stepped forward and bowed respectfully.  
Coran nodded at the lot of them. “It’s a pleasure to meet with you and your family, King Zarkon. Thank you for agreeing to this alliance. I think it’s high time our kingdoms join forces and band together.”  
Zarkon nodded. “It is well past time for our kingdoms to align. You and I shall discuss diplomacy matters while our sons get to know one another. Lotor, you will keep Princess Allura company.”  
Coran motioned for Allura to greet Lotor while Lance shuffled closer to Keith. He chewed his lip, a nervous habit he’d never been able to break, as he took in the Galran prince’s appearance. He offered a respectful bow, smiling as politely as he could.   
“Nice to meet you, Prince Keith.”  
Kosmo stepped forward, nudging his nose against Lance’s hand.   
Keith raised a brow. “It’s nice to meet you. You must be something special, Prince Lance. Kosmo had never been this friendly towards someone upon their first meeting.”  
With a nod to the Queen, he led Lance out of the throne room, giving him a tour of the kingdom.  
Lance smiled at the wolf. “Aren’t you a good boy,” he cooed sweetly. He offered the Galran prince a shrug as he followed him through the halls. “I’ve always been good with animals.” He cast a soft glance down at Blue as she trotted along beside him.  
Keith followed his gaze and smiled at the feline. “She’s cute. What’s her name?” After pointing out various chambers and activity halls, he led Lance outside to the gardens.   
“Her name is Blue,” the Altean smiled.   
As Keith sat down on a bench in the garden, Blue approached, nuzzling her head into his stomach. He chuckled softly and lifted a hand to scratch the top of her head. “She’s sweet. Have you always had her?”  
Lance nodded, smiling softly at the two. “She found me when I was a baby. She saved me and took me to King Coran so he could take me in, and we’ve been inseparable ever since.” He rubbed the lioness’s ears fondly.  
His words settled in Keith’s mind and the raven-haired prince’s eyes widened. “You’re adopted, too?”  
Lance nodded again as though it were a natural conversation before his brow furrowed. “Wait, too? You’re adopted?” His voice was quiet, hoping the subject wouldn’t be offensive to the Galran prince.  
Keith sighed softly. “Zarkon found me when I was a baby. My parents were killed in battle. He took me in and raised me as his own but… I’ve always felt like he didn’t want to.  
Lance exhaled a breath of understanding. “I get that. Allura loathes my entire being. I can tell she can’t wait to get rid of me and have the King all to herself again.” He smiled at Blue as she rested her paws on his lap, sensing his emotions. “I don’t feel too lonely, though. I have Blue.” As if on cue, the lioness stood up on her hind legs and dragged her long tongue across Lance’s face, earning a chuckle in response.  
Keith chuckled, glancing down where Kosmo had curled up around his feet. “That’s what Kosmo does for me.”  
Lance leaned back against the bench. His cerulean gaze turned towards Keith, a smile tugging at the corners of his mouth. “You should smile more often.”  
A soft pink hue dusted the Galra’s cheeks as he met Lance’s gaze. “Why is that?”  
The Altean smirked. “It suits you.”  
Keith offered him a ghost of a smile before his amethyst eyes stared down at his lap. “Can I ask you something?”  
Lance’s head tilted to the side in curiosity. “Sure, what is it?”  
“How do you feel about this?” Keith inquired, waving a hand between Lance and himself. “This whole arranged marriage nonsense?”  
“I don’t know…” Lance trailed off, rubbing the back of his neck absent-mindedly. “I feel like my freedom is being taken from me. I just don’t understand why our races require an arranged marriage to be allies.”  
“I understand,” the raven-haired prince nodded. “I just… I hope we can get along. I’d hate for us to get married and despise one another.”  
Lance chuckled softly. “Yeah. That would be terrible.”  
Footsteps sounded behind the boys, though neither of them paid attention. A servant approached the pair and bowed respectfully. “Sirs, your presence is requested in the throne room.”  
Keith waved, sending the servant away before he stood, offering a hand to Lance. The latter accepted it, pulling himself rising to his feet. He sauntered behind the Galran prince with Blue at his side as they made their way back through the kingdom.

Once outside the throne room, Keith reluctantly released Lance’s hand, having forgotten that he was still holding it. As the doors entered, Keith lifted his head attentively. “You sent for us, Father? Have you reached a decision?”  
Zarkon nodded. “Yes. King Coran and I have come to an agreement.”  
Coran nodded excitedly while Allura sent a smirk towards her brother. Lance stifled a frown, wondering what thoughts were brewing inside her usually empty head.  
“The wedding will take place in one month,” Queen Haggar stated.  
Keith’s eyes widened. “A month?”  
Lance’s heart pounded in his chest as his gaze drifted between Keith’s face and Zarkon’s. He remained quiet, not wanting to offend anyone, but one question begged for his attention. “If I may ask, will it take place here or in Altea?”  
“Since the first meeting took place here,” Zarkon replied, “the wedding will occur in Altea.”  
Lance exhaled a breath he hadn’t realized he’d been holding, subconsciously running his fingers through Blue’s hair. Keith shuffled over to his throne, sitting down. Kosmo plopped down beside it, close enough to rest his head on the armrest.   
“Coran and I will meet again to discuss Altean customs,” Zarkon stated. “I wouldn’t want my son to offend your people.”  
“Lance might also be able to help Keith learn our traditions,” Coran suggested, wanting the pair to get to know one another better before the big day.  
Zarkon nodded in agreement. “Keith can teach Lance our customs as well. They will have to spend a great deal of time in each kingdom to bond them as allies.”  
“We will meet again,” Haggar dismissed their guests. Coran gathered his children, and Lance bid Keith farewell with a flirtatious smile built from false confidence. Keith chuckled softly in return.  
Once the trio had left, Zarkon turned to his youngest son. “You are free to go.”  
Keith nodded and bowed to his father before gesturing for Kosmo to follow him out of the throne room.

He returned to his chambers and sat on his bed. Kosmo hopped up beside him supportively. Keith fell back, gazing up at the ceiling.   
“I don’t know if I can do this, boy.”  
Kosmo whimpered, lying down and resting his head on his prince’s chest.

Back in Altea, Lance had opted for spending the rest of the day in the gardens. Blue plopped down on the ground, and Lance followed suit, using her soft belly as a pillow. He exhaled a sigh, running his fingers through her fur as he stared up at the sky. “One more month, girl.”


	9. Klance - Hips Don't Lie 1/3

[B]Hips Don’t Lie  
A/N: Modern life AU. Keith doesn’t want anyone to know where he works. Unfortunately for him, Shiro helped him get the job.

Keith exhaled a sigh as he stared at his appearance in the mirror, tugging his favorite dark purple hoodie down his torso. Black sweatpants covered his legs and black leather boots protected his feet. He pulled his unruly black locks into a low ponytail at the back of his head, leaving his bangs to partly cover his face, and secured the ponytail with the hair tie he kept on his wrist. Plucking his house and bike keys from atop his dressed, he shuffled out of his room.  
His roommate, Shiro, offered him a smile and a cheery "Have a good night!" as the dark-haired boy made his way out the front door. Keith managed a wave in return before he disappeared from sight, shuffling out to the driveway where his cherry red motorcycle sat. He climbed on and started the ignition, peeling out into the street and heading to work.

The Garrison Club was about a twenty-minute drive from Keith’s house, but it felt much sooner as the raven-haired boy found himself pulling into the back parking lot. He always dreaded going to work, though he made good money and better tips.   
He parked his bike and killed the engine, locking the helmet onto the handlebar before stuffing the keys into his pocket. A sigh fell from his lips as he shuffled through the employees’ entrance, taking in the dim lighting and loud music. The bartender, Acxa, nodded to him as he entered. He enjoyed working with her, and he would be much less apprehensive about attending work if he could have the simple job of bartending.  
A glance at the stage, full of scantily-clad men and women relinquishing their dignity, reminded him why he was there. He stifled a groan as he headed to the staff room to deposit his outer clothing. Though Shiro knew where he worked (and had even assisted him in acquiring the job), Keith was heavily self-conscious about his position, and took extra care to hide his work uniform at all costs.   
He unbuckled his boots before peeling off his hoodie and sweats, leaving them on the table. His work attire consisted of deep violet harem pants that hung low on his hips, secured in place by a maroon sash tied to one side. His feet were bare, as was his torso, revealing his clavicle-to-navel tribal tattoo with a flame in the upper center.   
Keith clocked in using the clipboard that hung on the wall of the staff room before exiting, lingering behind the bar with Acxa before it was his turn to perform.  
The purple-haired bartender offered him a sympathetic smile. “Feeling shy tonight?”  
He groaned. “Some girl tried to tug my pants off last night. I’d rather not repeat it.”  
She chuckled as she stuck a towel inside a class, drying the water droplets inside. “It happens every now and again. You’re hot, remember?”  
Keith simply shrugged. “Doesn’t mean I don’t want my clothes to stay where they are. I’m the only one that’s allowed to take them off.”  
“Still no boyfriend?” Acxa teased. She had heard inklings of some blue-eyed brunet that her coworker had a crush on back in high school, but since they didn’t stay in touch, he had no new information. Still, she reminded him every chance she got, just to watch that furious blush dance across his cheeks.  
“If I get one,” he countered, rolling his eyes at her, “you’ll be the first to know.”  
She smiled proudly just as their DJ, Morvok, came on the mic, announcing the next performer. She watched as Keith slunk towards the stage, slipping behind it in preparation.  
“It’s the moment you’ve all been waiting for! Our next dancer has hips so hypnotizing, he doesn’t even need a name! Just one word – Red.”  
The flashing lights switched from purple to red, and Akon’s Belly Dancer sounded in the speakers. Keith sauntered out to the center of the stage, pausing for a second with his right foot forward, knee bent, arms at his sides. The patrons in the audience cheered wildly, having chosen this particular time to visit the Garrison Club for this very reason.   
With an inhale, Keith began his routine. By the end of the song, the stage was littered with dollar bills. As the lights dimmed, the raven-haired dancer collected his tips, stuffing them into the waistband of his pants before hopping off the stage and shuffling back to the bar. He needed a drink before the next performance.

“Hey, Lance!”  
The blue-eyed Cuban glanced up at the sound of his name, grinning as a familiar face came into view. “Hey, Shiro!”  
The latter sauntered up to the counter inside the Voltron Café, resting his arms atop it.  
“What can I get you?” Lance inquired. “Americano, as usual?”  
Shiro nodded. “Always.”  
The brunet grinned, plucking up a plastic cup and scribbling ‘Space Dad’ across it. He then tossed it to his coworker and told them to brew an iced Americano with cream.  
“Haven’t seen you in a while,” the tanned boy commented, turning his attention back to Shiro.  
The older boy nodded, exhaling a sigh. “I’ve been busy with the mentor program. Lots of new kids. None of them love the stars quite like you and Keith, though. I think they’re bored of me.”  
At the mention of the raven-haired boy, Lance’s hair stood on end, and he would deny his cheeks heating or turning pink. “O-oh yeah? That’s too bad. The stars are great.”  
Shiro grinned. Lance was still infatuated. “You know, you guys haven’t spoken in a while. You should catch up.”  
“Catch up on what?” Lance challenged. “Work? I can tell him wild stories about brewing coffee and baking scones.”  
The older boy’s grin widened. “Yeah… Work… Hey, your birthday is coming up, isn’t it?”  
The Cuban beamed. “Yep! My twenty-first!”  
“Perfect,” Shiro stated as Lance slid his coffee across the counter. He grasped it, leaving a pile of bills and a generous tip in its place. Lance plucked them up to stuff them into the register drawer, setting the extras in the tip jar.  
“Why is it perfect?” he inquired, raising a thin brow suspiciously.  
“I’m planning your party,” was all Shiro responded. He offered the brunet a wink before turning on his heel and sauntering out of the café.


	10. Klance - Hips Don't Lie 2/3

About a week later, Lance’s big day arrived. He’d been given the day off from work, but he insisted on stopping by for his favorite drink and a scone- on the house, Allura insisted- before heading over to Shiro’s house for whatever surprise he had planned. It wasn’t that the Cuban didn’t trust his former mentor. Far from it. He trusted Shiro with his life. But the older boy had seemed a tad too excited upon deciding that he would be in charge of Lance’s birthday, and the brunet couldn’t begin to imagine what was in store for him.  
He arrived at Shiro’s right on time, and he’d barely had time to knock before the door opened and he was whisked inside. Shiro, Matt, and Adam stood in the kitchen, all looking like cats who’d just caught canaries.  
“What’s going on?” Lance inquired, a hint of anxiety lacing his otherwise confident voice. “What are you planning?”  
“We’re taking you to a bar,” Adam stated proudly.  
“I figured,” the brunet shrugged. “I mean, it is my twenty-first.”  
Shiro shook his head. “A gay bar, Lance. Well, an LGBT-friendly bar, at least. It’s not all men.”  
A blush stained Lance’s tanned cheeks. “An LGBT bar?”  
Matt nodded. “There’s one not too far from here. Good food, better drinks, amazing dancers. You’ll love it.”  
Lance’s lips twitched into a grin. “I’m so in!”  
Shiro clapped proudly. “Now, to get you ready.”  
The Cuban glanced down at his t-shirt and jeans. “I’m not ready?”  
He missed the mischievous twinkle in Shiro’s eye. “Oh, no. Not even close. I have the whole evening planned.”

“Where’s Keith?” Lance inquired, hoping to sound nonchalant. “Doesn’t he live with you?”  
“He’s out,” Shiro replied as he sprayed the younger boy with his favorite cologne. “I told him you were coming over and he started stuttering about some errands he had to run and took off.”  
The brunet tried not to convey how his heart dropped at the news that Keith wouldn’t be part of the celebration. “Oh. That sucks.”  
Shiro smirked, coughing in order to put on an innocent façade. “There, you’re all done.”  
They- mostly Shiro- had dressed Lance in the tightest wife beater tank top known to man. It was off white, contrasting beautifully with his sun-kissed skin. The sky-blue jeans he wore were tight as well, accenting his legs and hips, clinging to his form. On his feet were simple grey skater shoes, his short chestnut hair was brushed, his face washed, and he was doused in the sexiest-smelling cologne he’d ever inhaled.   
“Why do I have to look so nice to go to a bar?” he questioned, though he would be the first to admit how hot Shiro had made him.  
“It’s your birthday,” the older boy shrugged. “You don’t want to get a lap dance looking all grungy, do you?”  
Lance’s baby blue sparkled. “Lap dance?”  
Shiro simply grinned. “You’ll thank me later.”

The four men entered The Garrison Club around nine that night. Lance’s eyes widened as he took in the strobe lights above the stage, the scent of alcohol and bar food wafting through the air, and the scantily-clad men and women parading up and down the aisle carrying trays to tables.  
“What do you think?” Shiro inquired, his own eyes dancing around in search of something- or someone- in particular.  
“It’s great so far,” the Cuban replied, rubbing his hands together. “Bring on the ladies!”  
“And gentlemen,” Matt teased, elbowing the younger boy softly.  
“And gentlemen!” Lance agreed cheerfully.  
Shiro led them to a table, and a woman with short purple hair greeted them. She held a notepad in one hand and a pen in the other, and just as she was about to introduce herself, she recognized the black-and-white-haired man sitting before her.  
“Shiro,” she smirked. “What brings you here?”  
“It’s Lance’s birthday,” he replied, clapping a hand on the brunet’s shoulder. “Bring him the special?”  
Acxa nodded. “Sure thing. For the rest of you?”  
She jotted down their drinks of choice, Adam only ordering a soda as he was the designated driver. Acxa nodded and sauntered away, grinning to herself. She knew there was only one reason for Shiro to be at the club, and the birthday boy he was celebrating perfectly matched the description of Keith’s old classmate that he’d had a crush on.  
While she was pouring, Shiro shuffled up to the bar. He leaned across it, making sure that only Acxa heard his request. The purple-haired bartender lifted a brow as though she’d been expecting the words, but a chuckle escaped her throat nonetheless.  
“I’ll see what I can do,” she promised.

Keith’s first routine of the night ended just before nine. He crept along the back wall to avoid being unnecessarily groped and grabbed and headed back to the bar. Unease settled in his stomach at the smirk that decorated Acxa’s lips.   
“What’s going on?” he demanded, pouring himself a shot of Tennessee Fire.  
“Someone requested a lap dance,” the bartender countered nonchalantly, pausing before she added, “from you.”  
The dancer’s eyes widened. “No way. Nuh-uh. I don’t do lap dances. I told Lotor that when he hired me.”  
Acxa giggled. “You might accept this one.” She pointed down the aisle at the table of four, and Keith immediately recognized Shiro’s two-tone hair. But, wait, who was that brunet beside him…? Oh! Oh, no.   
Keith shook his head rapidly. “Nope. Not happening. Not a chance in Hell.”  
“Aw, come on,” Acxa chuckled. “Could be fun. He looks an awful lot like the boy you used to tell me about.”  
“That’s because he is,” Keith glared pointedly at her. “I am not giving him a lap dance!”  
“But it’s his birthday.”  
Keith and Acxa both turned in the direction of Shiro’s voice. He had sauntered up to the bar again, wanting to check on the bartender’s progress.   
“So you brought him here??” Keith hissed.  
Shiro grinned. “Of course I did. What’s a twenty-first celebration without going to a bar?”  
“There are other bars,” the dancer deadpanned.  
“Yeah,” his roommate agreed, “but you work at this one. And Lance totally still has a thing for you.”  
Red hues danced across Keith’s pale features. “That’s too bad.”  
Rolling his eyes, Shiro held up a twenty-dollar bill. “Do it for the birthday boy.”  
Damn Shiro, knowing that Keith never turned down tips. He snatched the bill from his roommate and stuffed it into his waistband. “Tell him to wait in the Blue Lounge.”  
His roommate grinned and turned on his heel, heading back to his table. Keith watched as he repeated his instructions to Lance, who all but jumped out of his chair and ran in the direction of the Blue Lounge.  
Keith groaned inwardly as he sluggishly followed. He stopped at the table, glaring at the trio. “Does he know it’s me?”  
“Hey, Keith!” Matt greeted excitedly. Adam waved politely.  
Shiro shook his head. “Nope. I just told him I bought him a lap dance from a hot dancer.”  
In the months he’d been dancing at the Garrison Club, Keith had never been anxious. Maybe on his first night, but since then, he’d learned how to overpower it. Now, though, his heart was pounding and his body shaking as he forced himself down the hall in the direction of the Blue Lounge.


	11. Klance - Hips Don't Lie 3/3

A/N: I have never given or received a lap dance so I just made it up as I went.

Lance’s leg bounced up and down with excitement, tapping noises sounding every time his foot met the floor. His heart was pounding in his chest as he waited for the dancer to arrive. He could only hope that Shiro had good taste – he’d been given no hints about his dancer’s name or appearance other than “He’s hot” and “You’ll like him.”  
The door to the Blue Lounge opened, but as Lance turned his head to sneak a peek of his dancer, he found the room empty. A presence appeared behind the chair he was seated in, and a pale hand held a black bandana in front of his face.   
“What’s this for?” the brunet inquired. “Is it a game?”  
“Something like that,” came a soft whisper. “I’m more confident when my patron can’t see me. I’ll tell you when you can remove it.”  
With a grin, Lance fastened the bandana around his eyes. “Okay. All clear.”  
He heard soft steps padding around to the front of him – was the dancer barefoot? His hands toyed with the hem of his tank top before he felt a presence on his lap. Oh, fuck. The dancer was on his lap. His body was warm and damn Lance wanted to reach out and touch. Was he allowed to touch? Shiro never explained the rules of a lap dance. Did you have to pay extra for touching? Jesus fuck, this guy smelled good. It had to be a guy. Lance could just tell. Women felt different – not that Lance had ever had another lap dance to which he could compare this one. He just had a hunch.  
Keith noticed the brunet’s twitching hands and smirked. “You can touch, if you want. Your friend tipped more than enough.”  
Lance stifled a sigh of relief as he lifted his hands and moved them forward. The first thing he felt was chiseled abs and smooth skin. A soft groan sounded in his throat as he continued upwards, his fingers dancing across firm pectorals and toned shoulders, down thin but muscular arms. His hands slid back up to the torso, reaching around to run down his dancer’s smooth back.  
Keith would be lying if he said he wasn’t melting under the brunet’s touch. He gulped inaudibly, shaking his head to clear his focus. He placed his hands on Lance’s shoulders before he stood, and Lance nearly whimpered at the cold air settling over his lap. He heard a click before the instrumental track of Ciara’s “Body Party” began to play, and Lance’s heart leapt with excitement.  
He felt legs on either side of his, and his dancer’s hands remained on his shoulders. Keith leaned forward, rocking his hips forward, just barely brushing against the brunet’s lap. Their chests were inches apart, and the scent of Keith’s cologne was intoxicating. Lance’s hands found his hips, following his movements since the dancer had insisted on a blindfold. His teeth gnawed at his lower lips as Keith’s muscles shifted beneath his fingers, feeling his hip bones rolling every time he ground his body forward.   
Keith pulled back and turned around, legs on either side of Lance’s, his chest facing away from the brunet. He inhaled deeply before calling, “You can take the blindfold off.” As he heard the fabric slipping, he bent forward, angling his ass towards Lance, who immediately placed his hands on Keith’s hips. The dancer rolled back up, arching his back, allowing Lance to gaze at the deep red tattoo that covered his skin. He had little time to decipher it as Keith was spinning around, returning to a seated position atop Lance’s legs, his pale hands on the brunet’s toned chest.   
The Cuban’s eyes nearly popped out of their sockets. “Keith?”  
The dancer blushed, his cheeks the color of the scarf around his hips. “Long time, no see.”  
He stood, one hand on the back of Lance’s neck, rocking his hips forward again. The brunet’s mouth watered at the sight of Keith’s torso so close to his own. His hands traveled up his abdomen and across his ribs, his teeth digging further into his lips as Keith leaned forward again. His hips ground dangerously close to Lance’s, and the Cuban had to remind himself that they were at a bar, and that the raven-haired hottie was only grinding and rolling so close because he’d been paid to. There was no way this god of a dancer would be interested in a more personal setting.  
“I have to admit,” Keith murmured, resting his weight atop Lance and placing his hands on the brunet’s abdomen, “when I saw that it was you I’d be dancing for, I didn’t think I could do it.”  
Lance raised a brow, desperate to question the man’s insecurities but unable to form a coherent sentence as he gazed into Keith’s amethyst eyes. “W-why?”  
Keith dipped his head as though ashamed of the answer. “You’re my first lap dance. I’ve refused to ever since I began working here, and my boss has been okay with it. But Shiro came up all smirky and teasing, shoved money at me and then told me he was here to celebrate your birthday.”  
“Is that the only reason?” Lance inquired, his hands gripping Keith’s hips, halting his grinding and rocking.  
“I may be undeniably attracted to you,” Keith hissed, his nose brushing against Lance’s.  
“What a coincidence,” the brunet grinned. “I’m most definitely attracted to you.”  
Keith placed a hand on the back of Lance’s neck and pulled him forward, crashing their lips together. The Cuban groaned shamelessly into the kiss, using his hands on Keith’s hips to pull his torso closer. The raven-haired boy whimpered as their chests pressed together, hearts beating erratically, skin on fire with unbridled passion and desire. Lance’s hands slipped around to Keith’s back, snaking up to his shoulder blades before raking his nails downwards, leaving red lines in their wake. Keith moaned loudly into the kiss, his hand fisting in short chestnut brown locks. His teeth tugged at Lance’s lower lip, sucking it into his mouth. The brunet hissed in pleasure as his hands found their way up Keith’s chest, one hand sliding into his thick raven locks to tangle and tug. Keith’s head fell back, and Lance took the opportunity to ravish his neck. He licked, nibbled, and sucked his way from the dancer’s jaw down to his collarbone, careful not to leave any too-visible marks since Keith was nowhere near close to clocking out. Keith managed to push Lance’s head away, returning the favor with licks and bites of his own. But Lance didn’t have work, so Keith was free to leave as many dark purple bruises on his tanned skin as he pleased. The Cuban would look like he got tortured by the time Keith was done with him.  
The song came to an end, and Keith pulled away, panting for air. “Time’s up.”  
Lance pouted. “We’ll be here all night. I wanna watch you dance.”  
Keith grinned, pecking his lips softly. “I’ll be sure to focus on you.”  
He stood and adjusted his clothes and hair before offering a hand to Lance. As they approached the door, they shared a soft kiss, before parting ways. Keith returned to the bar for a much-needed drink, and Lance stumbled towards his table, a dopey grin on his lips.  
“Did you enjoy your dance?” Adam inquired.  
“What’s all over your neck?” Matt questioned.  
Shiro simply laughed and turned around to wink at his roommate.


	12. Klance - I'd Be Your Memory

Title: I’d Be Your Memory  
Summary: After a fight, Keith wakes up with amnesia. What will it take to bring it back?  
Words: 3,253

 _“What if he doesn’t wake up?”_  
_“Don’t talk like that. He will.”_  
_“But what if-“_  
_“Lance, stop it.”_

Muffled voices flooded his ears as Keith slowly came to. His eyelids twitched before fluttering open, exposing dark pupils and amethyst irises to dim lighting, partially blocked by the green glass cover of the healing pod he found himself in. A groan sounded in his throat as the door opened with a woosh, allowing him to stumble out onto the floor. He nearly fell, his knees bent and legs shaking, arms limp at his sides. His body was clad in an unfamiliar, skin-tight white suit, and his thick raven locks were tangling from a lack of being brushed.  
Six figures stood before Keith, six pairs of eyes wide with hope and surprise and relief. He could tell from their expressions that they weren’t sure he would survive whatever had happened to him. What he couldn’t understand was who they were and why they were so interested in his well-being.  
“Keith,” one of the men spoke. He was tall and muscular, with a chunk of white hair hanging over his eyes and a scar stretching across his nose bridge. “How are you feeling?”  
The raven-haired boy hesitated. He didn’t know these people – could he trust them?  
“I’m fine,” he replied slowly. “Why is that your business?”  
Frowns adorned every face of the people standing before him.  
“Keith,” came a soft voice that belonged to a tall, tanned brunet. “We’re your… friends.”  
“Who are you?” Keith inquired, tilting his head. There was something familiar about his bright blue eyes, but it had buried itself in the back of the raven-haired boy’s mind and wouldn’t come forward.  
The brunet’s face twisted into an expression of pain and betrayal, and he took a fraction of a step back. “I’m Lance.”  
Partially satisfied with his answer, Keith turned his gaze towards the other five. “What about the rest of you?”  
They all shared a look of confusion and concern. The man with white hair who spoke before stepped forward.  
“I’m Shiro,” he introduced.  
“Hunk,” said a thicker boy who had an orange bandana wrapped around his forehead.  
“Pidge,” came the voice of a short brunette.  
A tall woman with skin nearly the same tone as Lance’s nodded. “I am Princess Allura.”  
Beside her stood a tall man with a thick orange mustache. “I am Coran. How much do you remember, Keith?”  
Keith hesitated, his eyes darting between each of their faces before casting to the ground. In truth, he hardly remembered a thing.  
“Bits and pieces,” he finally answered. “I remember my small house in the desert. I remember the Garrison. I remember being alone.”  
His audience remained quiet as they waited for him to continue.  
“It’s blurry, like a dream,” the raven-haired boy murmured. “There’s something about lions and fighting and aliens. I remember flying, maybe through space, and then crashing hard into a giant rock. Then it’s all black and fuzzy.”  
Shiro exhaled a sigh. “We’re the paladins of a mechanical weapon called Voltron. We travel to different planets and rescue endangered alien races. We were on a mission against a rather powerful beast when our lions were separated. For whatever reason, the beast honed in on you, and it managed to get you ejected from your lion. You crash landed on the surface of the planet’s moon and fell unconscious. We found you sometime after, barely breathing, nearly dead. The healing pod managed to mend your wounds and return your consciousness, but it appears that the impact of the crash combined with how long you were asleep has given you amnesia.”  
Keith’s mind was reeling. How was he supposed to process all of this?  
“And you’re… my team mates?” he concluded, looking at the group standing around him.  
“We’re more than that,” Shiro answered, his brown eyes darting between Keith and Lance. “I’ve known you for a long time, Keith. I helped you get into the Garrison. You’re like a brother to me.”  
The dark-haired boy nodded slowly. It hurt that he couldn’t recall the closeness he was meant to have with these people.  
“We’re your friends,” Hunk added. He slowly shuffled up to Keith and opened his arms. When the latter remained still, Hunk leaned in, wrapping him in the gentlest hug he could manage.  
“I… I’m…” Lance was at a loss for words. Was it a good idea to inform Keith just how close he and Lance truly were? What if amnesia-Keith didn’t like guys, or at least didn’t think he could?  
Shiro caught the brunet’s hesitation and sighed, resting a hand on Keith’s shoulder. “You and Lance are dating.”  
His purple eyes widened as he looked from Shiro’s calm features to Lance’s shaking frame. He seemed nervous, terrified actually. Was he afraid that Keith would be mad? Had they had a fight before the crash?  
“We’ll leave you two alone,” Pidge murmured as she grasped Hunk’s arm and led him out of the room. Shiro followed suit, gesturing for Coran and Allura to join. Once they were alone, Keith turned to Lance.  
“We’re dating?”  
“Uh, yeah…” Lance scratched the back of his neck nervously. “I’m sorry if that… upsets you…”  
Keith tilted his head, brows furrowing in confusion. “Why would it?” The brunet before him was undeniably attractive, but he would have never guessed that the adorable brunet with the sun-kissed skin was his.  
Lance smiled softly and offered Keith his hand. The latter took it hesitantly, lacing their fingers.  
“Come on,” the taller boy began. “I’m sure you want a shower, and maybe getting back into your own clothes will help jog your memory.”

After a shower (during which Lance most definitely sat right outside the bathroom door in case his memory-impaired boyfriend required assistance), Keith returned to his room to dress. Lance followed, sitting on his bed while the raven-haired boy rummaged through his drawers. He found a dark grey t-shirt and black jeans along with grey boxers and looked around the room as if debating something.  
Lance caught the uncertain look in his eye and frowned. “Do you want me to leave?”  
While Keith had yet to remember his relationship with the attractive brunet, he couldn’t deny that having Lance nearby made him feel safe. He shook his head. “No, you can stay. I… I like your company.”  
With that, he turned his back to Lance, dropped his towel, and pulled on his clothes. Lance most certainly watched as his ass wiggled every which way the entire time.  
“What do we do around here?” Keith inquired as he turned back around.  
The brunet shrugged. “Go on missions to save aliens in need.”  
The raven-haired boy blinked. “And when we’re not on missions?”  
“Just hang out,” Lance replied softly. “Or did you mean, you and me, together?”  
The softest blush found its way onto Keith’s skin. “Uh… yeah.”  
A grin spread across the Cuban’s face. He stood and took Keith’s hand in his own, lacing their fingers and dragging the older boy out of his room and down the hall. He led Keith towards the elevator and pressed the button for the floor that contained the pool. A nostalgic smirk settled on his lips as he wrapped his arm around Keith’s shoulders, but it melted into a smile as the shorter boy leaned into his side.  
Once the elevator stopped, he took the red paladin’s hand once more and dragged him out. A few more steps and a couple more turns and they arrived at-  
“The pool,” Lance stated proudly.  
Keith’s expression stayed blank as he looked up. “Why is it on the ceiling?”  
“It’s Altean.”  
“How do we go swimming in it?”  
“No idea.”  
Keith turned to lance with furrowed brows. “Why do we come here?”  
Lance’s grin returned. He sat down on one of the chairs and took Keith’s hands in his. He hesitated, uncertain of how much physical contact amnesia-Keith was comfortable with.  
“It’s okay,” the shorter boy murmured. The brunet nodded, tugging Keith down onto his lap and wrapping his arms around his pale waist.  
“It’s one of our first memories together,” he explained. “You and I were both headed to the pool, but the elevator shut down so we had to tag-team to climb up the elevator shaft and kick in the side panel to get out. That landed us directly in this room where we discovered that Altean pools are upside down. We still haven’t figured out swimming, but we come here when we can’t sleep or we just want some time alone. It’s kind of become our place.”  
Keith relaxed, leaning back against Lance’s broad chest. He couldn’t remember climbing out of the elevator or the supposed rivalry he used to have with Lance. He didn’t remember becoming boyfriends or befriending the rest of the team. But despite having no memory beyond living in Texas, Keith felt extremely comfortable in the brunet’s arms, and he didn’t want Lance going anywhere out of reach.

“Maybe bonding with Red will help jog your memory,” Shiro stated as he and Lance led Keith towards Red’s hangar.  
“Red?” the raven-haired boy questioned.  
“Your lion,” Lance replied. “How much do you remember about being a paladin?”  
Keith exhaled a sigh. “Not a lot. Bits and pieces of piloting a space craft and visiting planets. Nothing in great detail.”  
“It’s a start,” Shiro smiled. “The space craft you remember flying is the red lion. Each paladin has a bond with his or her lion, and yours is Red. I’m sure she remembers you. Maybe communing with her will help kick your amnesia in the butt.”  
“How do I commune with a space craft?” Keith inquired softly, leaning in close to Lance as though he were ashamed of the question.  
“I don’t know how to explain it,” Lance countered with a hum. His fingers were laced with Keith’s – a gesture that Keith had quickly taken a liking to and searched for when he was upset or confused. “I’ll stay with you, if you want, until you feel more comfortable.”  
The raven-haired boy nodded. “Thanks.”  
They arrived at the hangar, and Red’s eyes lit up upon feeling Keith’s presence. The lion laid down and opened her mouth, allowing her paladin to enter.  
Shiro smiled. “This is a good sign,” he assured. “Red still trusts you. Reforming your bond shouldn’t be too difficult.”  
“Thanks,” Keith smiled softly. He hesitantly stepped into the lion’s mouth, tugging Lance in behind him. Once they were safely inside, Red closed her mouth and the controls lit up.  
“That’s your seat,” Lance stated as he gestured to the chair at the front of the craft. Keith nodded, sitting down. He let out a yelp as the chair slid forward, locking into place with pedals beneath his feet and controls within reach of each hand. He gazed out of the windshield, seeing the castle through Red’s eyes. Something clicked, and his mind whirled with images of five lions flying through space, blasting dark purple ships. His chest tingled as the images changed to the five lions joining together, twisting and shifting until they formed one large robotic weapon.  
“Voltron,” Keith whispered, relaxing in his seat.  
Lance’s eyes lit up. “Yes, love. Voltron. That’s what we do.”  
The shorter boy gazed up at him. “It’s still in pieces, but I saw the lions flying together and then forming Voltron. Being a paladin is slowly coming back.”  
The Cuban bent forward, pressing a gentle kiss to the side of Keith’s head. He expected the visible heat that was now rising to his boyfriend’s cheeks. What he didn’t expect was Keith turning his head, tilting it up to face Lance, pursing his lips as though silently requesting a kiss. Lance knelt before the raven-haired paladin, his hands on Keith’s hips, leaning in dangerously close.  
“Are you sure?” he whispered against Keith’s mouth.  
The red paladin nodded softly, his eyes fluttering closed. Lance exhaled as he closed the gap, pressing his lips to his boyfriend’s. He had to restrain himself, sticking to gentle, closed-mouth kisses so he didn’t push Keith too far. The brunet melted into his boyfriend’s lap as Keith reciprocated the gesture, returning Lance’s kisses with practiced passion.  
Lance pulled back for a breath, slowly opening his eyes and gazing up into Keith’s amethyst orbs. “How was that?”  
“Familiar,” the raven-haired boy replied, resting a gentle hand on the brunet’s cheek. “I feel like I know you, but… I just don’t.”  
Lance smiled softly, nuzzling his cheek into Keith’s hand. “It’s okay. You’ll get there. You trust me; that’s a start. And you’re starting to remember Red. We’ll get through this.”  
Keith nodded softly. “What if we get attacked? Before my memory comes back?”  
The brunet shrugged. “We’ll make the best of it.” He pressed a kiss to his boyfriend’s palm. “Do you want to stay here and bond some more?”  
“If you’ll stay with me,” the red paladin replied softly.  
Lance grinned. “Always.” He stood, kissing the side of Keith’s head before standing behind his chair, not wanting to interfere.

As luck would have it, disaster struck. The Galra received word that Voltron was vulnerable, so Zarkon sent an entire fleet of cruisers hurling towards the castle.  
“Engage the particle barrier!” Allura announced. “Paladins, to your lions!”  
Lance watched Keith’s expression with concern etching his Cuban features. He only hoped that Red would help fill in the blanks so that his boyfriend wouldn’t be flying blind.  
Once the paladins were safe in their lions, they flew out into the fight, careful to avoid the lasers shooting from the cruisers.  
“Keith,” Shiro called over the coms. “How much do you remember?”  
“Enough,” the red paladin replied as he dodged a shot.  
“Red is the fastest, so I need you to guide the cruisers away from the rest of us,” Shiro instructed. “Dodge their fire as best you can and if they get too close, use Red’s fireball to take them down. Pidge, engage Green’s cloak so the cruisers can’t see you coming. Lance and Hunk, fire everything you’ve got at the cruisers Keith is distracting.”  
“On it,” Keith called back, speeding up and zooming past the cruisers. Irritated, they followed the giant red cat, shooting lasers as they tried to catch up. Keith managed to dodge their lasers, exhaling a groan as he turned around to shoot fire back at them. Pidge flew invisibly between them, knocking cruisers out of the sky. Lance and Hunk were careful not to hit Red as they shot at the Galra ships tailing Keith.  
Shiro was engaged in his own fight, unable to watch Lance’s back as a cruiser crept up behind Blue. A laser hit right in her side and she fell, tumbling towards the nearest planet. Everyone heard his agonized screams as he crashed before going frighteningly silent.  
“Lance!” Keith cried out.  
“Go get him,” Shiro ordered. Red flew down to the planet, barely having time to land before Keith flew out of the cockpit and ran towards Blue. The blue lion was damaged noticeably, her entire right side in charred pieces. Lance lied unconscious on the surface of the planet, his armor damaged and blood seeping from his abdomen.  
Keith approached, gently lifting the blue paladin into his arms. Lance rested in his lap, his head on Keith’s chest. The red paladin’s arms wrapped securely around him, and he inhaled a gasp as images flashed through his mind.  
Holding Lance in his arms.  
Lance, unconscious, barely breathing.  
Bonding moment.  
“Lance…” It fell from Keith’s lips in a choked sob, tears building in his eyes as he gazed down at his unconscious boyfriend. “I remember you… I remember everything… You can’t leave me like this.”  
“Keith!” Shiro called as they finished off the Galra fleet. “How is he?”  
“Not good,” the red paladin croaked. “He’s hurt pretty bad, Shiro. We have to get him back to the castle.”  
The rest of the lions flew down to the planet, and Black managed to carry Blue on her back. Keith carried Lance into Red’s cockpit, holding him on his lap as he prepared to fly back to the castle.

Once they returned, the red paladin carried his boyfriend to the medical wing, opening a healing pod. The other paladins followed, concern and sympathy on their faces. Once the pod was activated and Lance was stripped of his outer armor, Keith carefully placed him inside and closed the door. He then dropped his weight onto a chair and sat directly in front of the pod, his heart heavy with worry.  
A hand rested on his shoulder. “You should go change and get some rest,” came Shiro’s voice. “You went through a lot today.”  
“I’m used to it,” Keith shrugged.  
Shiro raised a voice. “You mean…?”  
The red paladin nodded. “My memories came back.”  
“When?”  
“When he got hurt. I picked him up and everything came back.”  
Shiro squeezed his shoulder. “He’ll be alright. Go relax.”  
Keith shook his head. “I can’t, Shiro. It’s just like the last time he got hurt. I have to be here.”  
The black paladin smiled softly. “Alright, alright.”

A limbo-like state of unconsciousness had consumed the red paladin as he remained station in his chair, facing the healing pod and waiting desperately for it to open and reveal his freshly-awoken boyfriend. Keith was far too stressed and worried to sleep deeply – the slightest scuff of a boot on the castle floor could wake him. Still, his eyes needed to rest, and any break he could give his brain from the dark and gloomy thoughts about Lance never waking up was more than welcome.  
A hissing noise sounded, like the pressure being released from a bottle of soda, and it was enough to snap Keith into action. He sprung upright, eyes popping open and darting around in alarm. His hands scrambled to his belt where he kept his knife, but as soon as he saw the green glass of the healing pod swinging open to reveal his beloved brunet, he calmed, leaving his blade where it was holstered and heaving a breath.  
Lance stumbled forward, barely registering that he was awake. Keith was there in an instant, arms wrapping around his slender form. The brunet hummed in appreciation, his head falling to rest on his boyfriend’s shoulder. Keith slowly backed away from the pod, his arms secured around Lance’s torso, leading him to a chair. Upon realizing that there was a chair beneath him, the Cuban bent his legs and dropped onto the seat, gazing up at Keith tiredly.  
“Hey, gorgeous,” he grinned.  
Keith smiled softly. His pale hands lifted to rest on either side of Lance’s face. “Hey, handsome. How are you feeling?”  
Lance’s lips jutted forward into a pout. Keith chuckled, leaning forward to kiss the brunet sweetly.  
“Better,” the latter hummed before his eyes widened. “Wait, Keith, what about your-“  
“I remember everything,” the red paladin smiled. He kissed Lance again, letting his lips linger, holding his face close. “I was so worried about you.”  
Slender arms reached out and wrapped around Keith’s form, tugging him down onto Lance’s lap. The shorter boy secured his arms around his boyfriend’s neck, ducking his head to tuck it into Lance’s shoulder.  
“I’m here,” Lance promised. “You’re not getting rid of me that easily.”  
“Good,” Keith murmured, nuzzling Lance’s tan skin. They stayed there for several minutes, cradling one another, assuring each other and themselves that they were fine, and they were together.


	13. Klance - Coming Home 1

Title: Coming Home Chapter One  
Summary: After settling into their new life on Earth, Keith and Lance decide that they’re ready to take their relationship a step further and expand their family.  
Words:  
1,456  
A/N: Adam is alive because fuck that.

Restarting their lives on Earth had been more difficult than any of the paladins had anticipated. Lance, Pidge, and Hunk each had their families to help them return to a normal routine. Shiro had Adam to lean on and share stories with. Keith… Keith had the paladins. His father was gone, and his mother was running missions for the Blades. All the former red paladin had to hold onto was the other four pilots he had come to know and love.  
But he couldn’t lean on them. He couldn’t impose. Everyone had a family to return to, and Keith didn’t want to interfere. He and Lance had grown closer while they were stuck in space, and though that made him want to cling to Lance like a desperate child, it also meant that he knew how badly the former blue paladin had missed his large family. He spoke of them all the time, and Keith wanted nothing more than to reunite them.  
He lingered in the doorway of the rec center they were all gathered in. After defeating the Galra, the paladins had an indefinite amount of time off, so they had rented a community center-type building for the day. Everyone was there with their families, leaving Keith to hover along the wall and watch the festivities. Though he’d come to regard the paladins as his family, especially now that he and Lance were dating, he felt awkward and out of place with everyone’s true family present.  
“So tell me about this boy you’re seeing,” Veronica grinned, narrowing her eyes at her brother. “You haven’t even told us his name.”  
A blush stained Lance’s tan cheeks as his cerulean gaze wandered round the room in search of a black mullet. His lips split into a grin upon spotting Keith hiding in the corner. “Keith! Come here!”  
The black paladin’s eyes widened, and his expression could have best been described as a deer in headlights. Lance waved him over, and once they caught on, the rest of his family followed suit. It took a shove in the shoulder from Shiro to actually pry Keith off the wall, but he forced his feet to move, shuffling towards the large group of Cubans huddling around Lance.  
Lance threw an arm around his shoulders and pressed a sloppy kiss to his cheek. “Everyone, this is my boyfriend, Keith.”  
Veronica’s eyes lit up. “Keith? Keith from the Garrison? The boy you used to talk about-“  
“Ronnie!” Lance interrupted pointedly, his blush returning.  
A smirk settled on Keith’s lips. “You used to talk about me? How sweet. Tell me more.”  
Veronica’s lips moved a mile a minute, recalling every single time that Lance had called home rambling on about “Mullethead” and their alleged rivalry. By the time she finished, Lance was a tomato, and Keith was smirking proudly.  
“He only mentioned your name once or twice,” Ronnie concluded. “It was usually Mullet or Hothead.” She leaned in close to the black paladin, staring at his face as if searching for something.  
“Can I help-“   
“Awww!”   
Keith was interrupted by a squeal. He lifted a thick brow, quietly inquiring why Veronica had been staring at him.  
“His eyes really do sparkle like amethyst crystals!” she shrieked. Lance covered his face, and Keith grinned as he turned to the brunet.  
“Did you really say that?”  
Lance shook his head defiantly.  
Ronnie beamed. “When he wasn’t complaining about how good of a pilot you were, he would describe how you looked because he totally thought you were hot, even if he didn’t know it yet.” Her voice lowered as she began her rather uncanny Lance impression. “He has this thick raven hair that I really wanna run my hands through, but I don’t think he conditions it enough ‘cause he’s got major split ends. And his eyes sparkle like amethyst crystals, especially when he’s concentrating. He has really pale skin like Snow White- hey, maybe I could call him that!”  
Lance glared daggers at his sister. “Shut up, Ronnie! I do not sound like that!”  
Keith exhaled a laugh, loud and full, happier than any of the paladins had ever seen him. “I think you do, babe. She’s got you down.”  
Veronica wrapped both of her arms around one of Keith’s. “I think we’re starting a beautiful friendship.”  
Lance simply groaned.

Upon returning to Earth, Keith had returned to his desert shack. It needed some tidying and a great deal of dusting, but after scrubbing dishes and mopping floors, it became a livable house. It was small, with one bedroom, a bathroom, and a kitchen connected to the living room. The living room was still cluttered with Keith’s forgotten belongings. The entire wall was still tacked with posters and constellations, space craft sightings and haphazard sketches, all connected with yarn.   
It hadn’t seemed empty or lonely before, when the only special person Keith had in his life was Shiro. Looking at the small shack now, the new black paladin couldn’t help but feel a sense of abandonment. Though he was more than happy that his boyfriend had been reunited with his family, he worried that all of Lance’s time would be taken with the rest of the McClain clan, leaving Keith on his own. He had hoped to ask Lance to move in with him, but he worried that the brunet wouldn’t be interested.  
It was then that he heard a car rolling up outside his shack, and Keith’s thick brows furrowed in confusion. He hesitantly shuffled towards the front door, one hand resting on the knob while the other reached for the blade that he kept holstered on his belt. He pried the door open to reveal a dirt buggy sitting outside, Veronica at the wheel with Lance riding shotgun. The brunet turned towards the open door with a grin on his lips, thanking his sister for the ride before bursting from the car. He sprinted up to the door, backpack slung over his shoulder, beaming excitedly at his boyfriend.  
“What are you doing here?” Keith inquired as he stepped aside to let his boyfriend in.  
“Veronica assumed I would be staying with you once we got back,” Lance replied as he sat on the couch, setting his bag on the floor. “Mama wanted me to come home, but Ronnie said that I talked about you so much that we had to be living together by now. I didn’t really know what to say…” His sapphire eyes glued to a stain on the carpet. “You and I haven’t really spoken about our living situation.”  
Keith joined him on the couch, draping an arm across his shoulders. Lance leaned into the embrace, cuddling into the black paladin’s side. He hummed as the thump-thump of Keith’s heartbeat sounded beneath his ear, and he snuggled into his boyfriend’s chest.  
“I’ve been wanting to talk to you about that,” the raven-haired boy murmured softly. The Cuban lifted his head to gaze up at him, interest written on his adorable features.  
“What about it?” Lance inquired softly.  
Keith inhaled deeply, staring blankly at the wall as his hand lifted to toy with the longer strands of Lance’s chestnut hair. “I didn’t want to bring it up before, because I know how badly you missed your family and I didn’t want to interfere. But… I’ve been wanting to ask you to move in. Here. With me.”  
The brunet sat up straighter to gaze fully at his boyfriend’s face. “Really? You want me to move in?”  
The half-Galra met his gaze. “Yes. You and the paladins are the only family I really have, and if you want to spend more time with yours, I understand. I won’t take it personally if you say no. I just… wanted to offer.”  
Slender fingers danced on pale cheeks, bringing Keith’s face closer to Lance’s. Keith barely registered warm lips enveloping his own before his eyes fluttered closed and he returned the kiss, his own hands resting on Lance’s hips. He tugged the Cuban onto his lap, holding their chests together as Lance lazily nipped at Keith’s bottom lip.  
“Is that a yes?” the raven-haired boy panted between kisses. He felt the brunet’s lips twitch into a grin.  
“Absolutely,” Lance murmured, kissing his boyfriend deeply. Keith groaned as the word echoed in his head. Lance was moving in. He would get to have the brunet in his arms and on his lap all the time.His hands gripped Lance’s ass, holding their waists together as he stood. The Cuban’s lean legs secured around Keith’s hips, keeping himself upright as the half-Galra carried him to his bedroom. Lance was vaguely aware that he was being tossed onto a bed, losing himself in Keith’s hands and lips.


	14. Klance - Coming Home 2

Chapter Two  
Summary: It’s been a year since Lance and Keith confessed their love, and now that they’re back on Earth, they can properly celebrate.  
Words: 2,462  
A/N: This is kind of AU-ish. There isn’t a lot of detail about where the Garrison is or if there’s a nearby town, so I’ve made one up. I’ve also included an OC because I couldn’t think of a canon character to use since this is primarily based on the show, not an AU.

Ten months. They’d been back on Earth for ten months. The paladins had finally managed to return to their normal routines, and Allura, Coran, and Romelle quickly fell into step alongside their human friends. Best of all, they’d all been offered positions throughout the Garrison, and working at the Garrison paid very well.  
Shiro worked alongside Sam Holt and Iverson. Hunk, of course, became a chef. Pidge assisted in the computer systems, tinkering with the simulators to make them run more efficiently. Lance, gleefully, became a flight instructor. Keith and Romelle joined the security team, keeping watch over the cadets. Coran was in charge of keeping the backup generator charged, thanks to his vast knowledge of alien crystals. Allura shared her knowledge of alien races with Iverson, keeping their database up-to-date.

Saturday. Lance’s day off. Keith would be working security at night, which gave Lance plenty of time to plan their upcoming anniversary. In just three days, the calendar would mark that he and Keith had professed their love for one another exactly one year ago. He wasn’t sure if Keith remembered, or if he had been keeping track at all, but Lance had been counting the days, and he had their special night already planned.  
He’d been saving all of his paychecks from the Garrison, only spending what he absolutely needed to (power bill, grocery shopping, sex toys). While Lance preferred to spend his days off cuddling with Keith and watching movies, there were days that Keith was working when the brunet wasn’t, and Lance took advantage of his alone time.  
He’d been scoping out houses for sale in the neighborhood, wanting to keep close to the other paladins and get his boyfriend out of their tiny desert shack. Lance knew that Keith had emotional ties to their one-bedroom home, but he wanted to progress their relationship, and buying a house sounded like a great first step. Only Shiro knew of his plans, and the oldest paladin had been assisting the young Cuban in house-hunting. Lance didn’t dare tell any of his family about it until after the anniversary celebration – there was no chance in the Galra empire that they would be able to keep the secret, or that they would even try to.  
Shiro met Lance at the desert shack, picking him up in order to drive him around and look at houses. Lance all but ran out of his house, phone in hand and wallet stuffed into his pocket. He hopped into the passenger seat of Shiro’s car with a grin on his lips, to which Shiro responded with a chuckle before driving away.  
“I’ve seen a few more signs in town,” he informed the brunet. “I think there’s one you’ll like.”  
Lance was bouncing in his seat. “I hope so. I’ve loved all the houses we’ve seen so far, but none of them are the right one, you know? Our first house has to be perfect.”  
“’Our first house’,” Shiro repeated with a smile. “I’m so proud.”  
A blush dusted Lance’s perfect cheekbones as he beamed up at his mentor. “Shut up.”

They pulled into the driveway of a small white house. Attached to it was a garage, and a large yard stretched out in front, surrounded by a metal fence. An apple tree stood in the corner of the yard, and Lance could see plenty of windows decorating the front wall of the house. His jaw dropped in awe and his eyes widened as he gazed at the building, practically throwing open the car door and sprinting outside. Shiro grinned as he followed leisurely, allowing the brunet to gush and squeal over every detail. Lance barely registered the “For Rent” sign tacked into the ground outside the fence as he rushed up to the door.  
“Can we go in?” he pleaded, bouncing on the balls of his feet, his hands clasped together innocently.  
Shiro nodded, turning towards the street. A car pulled up behind Shiro’s, and a young woman stepped out. She smiled warmly at the boys as she made her way to the front door, a ring of keys in her right hand. She gently pushed past Lance and stuck a key in to the door handle.  
“Are you Lance?” she inquired.  
The brunet nodded excitedly.  
The woman chuckled. “Shiro’s told me a lot about you.”   
“This is Adam’s sister,” Shiro explained. “She’s a realtor.”  
“Call me Mary,” she smiled, pushing the door open. “Go on and explore. Shiro told me you were excited.”  
Lance didn’t need to be told twice. He sprinted into the house, pausing briefly only to determine which room to investigate first. To the right was an ample kitchen, filled with maple cabinets and granite counters. The fridge was stainless steel and the floor was cream-colored linoleum. To the left was the living room, hard-wood floors and a stone fireplace. On either side of the fireplace sat five-foot-tall windows. Lance shuffled through the kitchen, winding around the corner that led to the laundry room. A washer and dryer were already equipped, the floor paneled with the same linoleum as the kitchen. Winding back through the living room led him to the hallway which held the bathroom and two bedrooms. Each room had a walk-in closet and two four-foot-long windows. The bathroom was spacious, the toilet and sink attached to one wall. On the adjacent wall was the shower and tub, taking up the entire wall. Across the room from the sink was a storage closet.  
Lance bounded through the house, skipping out of the door to explore the yard. He ran around the house, confronting a back yard just as large as the front. There was plenty of room for a pool, a trampoline, and a swing set, and the Cuban would finally have the space to get a dog like he’d always wanted to.  
Mary and Shiro met Lance back in the front yard.  
“What do you think?” the older paladin inquired.  
“It’s perfect,” Lance whispered, the happiest tears forming in his eyes. “The rent is even cheaper than the other houses I’ve looked at!”  
Mary grinned. “I’ll get the paperwork written up today. Where can I bring it?”  
Lance scribbled his address on the back of one of Mary’s business cards, handing it back to her with a smile so bright it rivaled the sun. Mary took it before offering her hand to shake.  
“I’ll bring them by today,” she informed the brunet. She bid the boys goodbye before settling in her car and driving away. Lance released a breath he hadn’t realized he’d been holding as he looked at Shiro.  
“Ready to go?” Shiro inquired.  
Lance nodded. “Ready!”

Wednesday. Lance and Keith’s one-year anniversary. Lance awoke early, too excited about his plans to sleep in. His boyfriend was exhausted, having been on security detail until after midnight. The Cuban took advantage of Keith’s tendency to sleep late and crept out of bed after pressing a gentle kiss to his pale forehead, sneaking out to the kitchen.   
Lance pulled the coffee pot from where it was tucked into the corner of the counter and plugged it in, filling the carafe with water before pouring it into the back of the container. He then filled the filter with Keith’s favorite coffee grounds and closed the lid, flipping the power switch to get the coffee brewing. Once the light turned on, he knelt down until he was level with the appliances cupboard and fished through its contents before producing an alien-shaped waffle iron. He’d found it at a store in a nearby mall that seemed fascinated by alien-themed merchandise and knew Keith would find amusement in it, even if the Texan refused to admit that he liked waffles. With the iron sitting on the counter heating up, the Cuban grasped the box of waffle mix from the top of the fridge and a bowl from a different cupboard. Once the batter was thoroughly mixed, he poured a sizeable amount into the waiting iron and closed the lid, listening for the beep of readiness. While the waffles were cooking, Lance fetched a frying pan from the drawer beneath the stove and the carton of eggs from the counter. He cracked a few into a bowl and stirred them with a fork while the pan heated. The waffle iron beeped, altering the brunet that its contents had been cooked. He took a plate from yet another cupboard and a pair of tongs from the utensils drawer before opening the iron and retrieving the pastry, setting it on the plate. He loaded the appliance with more batter before closing the lid and turning to the now heated frying pan, pouring the beaten eggs into it.   
By the time Keith had awoke and shuffled sleepily into the kitchen in search of his boyfriend, the scent of fresh waffles and strong coffee had wafted through the air, awakening his senses. He found Lance dancing around the kitchen to inaudible music, fetching various waffle toppings from various storage places and setting them on the table. The brunet also retrieved Keith’s favorite mug- a large, ceramic, black mug that had “space gay” scribbled across it in red lettering- from the dishwasher and filled it with coffee.  
“Morning,” Keith managed to mumble as he leaned against the doorway. Lance spun on his heel, coffee in hand and miraculously still in the mug, and beamed at the raven-haired boy.  
“Morning, handsome,” he greeted, offering the mug to Keith. He also handed him the sugar shaker and a spoon, knowing how the Texan preferred his morning beverage. “Happy anniversary.”  
A knowing smile stretched Keith’s lips. “Happy anniversary. Is that what all this is for?”  
Lance nodded proudly, tugging his boyfriend into the kitchen and pushing him into a chair. He sat across the table once he ensured that they were both equipped with silverware and all the toppings and seasonings that they would need for their breakfast. “I know you worked late. I wanted you to wake up to something nice.”  
“I always wake up to something nice,” Keith countered, setting his mug on the table. “Your naked body.”  
The Cuban choked on his orange juice as a furious blush danced across his cheeks. “That’s not what I meant.”  
Keith simply grinned.  
“I have a surprise for you later,” Lance stated, refocusing Keith’s attention with a grin.  
The latter raised a brow as he stuffed a forkful of waffle and syrup into his mouth. “Surprise?”  
The brunet nodded. “After we eat and shower, I’m taking you somewhere.”  
Keith hummed in response, annihilating the rest of his breakfast. “This is delicious. Thank you, babe.”  
“Anything for you,” Lance smiled lovingly. Once they’d eaten their fill, he set their dishes in the sink, deciding that cleaning could wait until after their celebration. He then led Keith to their small bathroom and turned on the shower, helping to strip his boyfriend of his clothes.

After an hour, the boys were dressed. Lance had insisted on facial scrubs and styling Keith’s hair, something that Keith secretly enjoyed but Lance rarely enforced. The brunet even picked out nice clothing for each of them to wear, which landed him in a pale blue button-up and tight grey jeans. Keith dressed in in a grey tank top beneath a red button-up, paired with black fitted jeans. Lance led them out to Keith’s space bike, which Keith had taught him to ride shortly after they returned to Earth, and climbed on. Keith raised a brow as he climbed on behind his boyfriend, strapping on a helmet and wrapping his arms around Lance’s waist. The brunet strapped a helmet onto his own head and started the engine, riding out to the neighborhood that he had previously visited with Shiro.  
Confusion etched into Keith’s features as he climbed off the bike and removed his helmet, taking in the view. Lance had parked in front of a quaint little house, and Keith caught sight of a car in the driveway. He also noticed the “For Rent” sign tacked into the yard.  
“Lance?” he questioned, shuffling closer to his boyfriend. Lance grinned as he took Keith’s hand, leading him through the gate and up to the front door. Mary stood there waiting, paperwork in one hand and keys in the other.  
“Nice to see you again, Lance,” she smiled. “And you must be Keith.”  
The latter simply nodded. “What are we doing here?”  
Mary turned and unlocked the door, pushing it open and letting the boys step inside. Keeping a hold of his boyfriend’s hand, Lance headed into the house, stopping in the hallway.   
“What do you want to see first?” he inquired. “Kitchen or bedrooms? There’s also a back yard.”  
“What are we doing here?” Keith asked again, his amethyst gaze wandering over the simple decoration and homey feel that the house provided.  
Lance stood directly in front of him, taking both of his hands and lacing their fingers. “This place is ours if you want it. Say the word and I’ll sign the papers. Shiro’s been helping me find us a house. I know you like your desert shack, but… I thought maybe we could find a real house and, I dunno, start a family someday.”  
Keith gazed up at Lance with nothing but awe in his eyes. His heart thumped in his chest and he could feel a lump forming in his throat. “Lance… We’re really doing this?”  
The brunet nodded. “I’ve been saving practically all of my money from the Garrison, and this place is way cheaper than the other houses I’ve seen so I already have the first three months’ rent covered, plus the security deposit.”  
“I love it,” Keith whispered. “Lance… I love it.”  
Lance grinned, his eyes lifting to catch Mary’s knowing smirk. After giving Keith a tour of the house (and rambling excitedly about the back yard), he met Mary in the doorway and signed the paperwork.  
“Once my office receives the security deposit and first month’s rent, I’ll send you the keys,” she promised Lance. They shook hands before she headed to her car, and Lance led Keith back to his bike. 

They arrived back at their small desert shack and collapsed on the living room couch. Keith leaned back against the cushions and lifted an arm, allowing Lance to snuggle into his side. He closed his eyes, his head resting atop Lance’s chestnut locks, his arms wound tightly around the Cuban.  
“Thank you,” he murmured.  
Lance looked up at him with a soft smile. “You’re welcome. I just wanted you to have a good anniversary.”  
“Happy anniversary,” Keith hummed softly, pressing a kiss to Lance’s forehead.  
The brunet hummed, tucking his head into Keith’s neck. They eventually dozed off, listening to one another’s breathing.

*Would anyone be interested if I continued this series on Patreon?


	15. Klance - Spactra

Title: Spactra  
Fandom: Voltron  
Pairing: Keith x Lance  
Summary: After visiting a dying planet that’s been targeted by Galra, the paladins are entrusted to protect their most prized possession – a special plant that, should one touch it with their bare hand, causes one to act on their innermost feelings, whether it be love, hate, or something else.  
Words: 2,426

Planet Omsus was luscious and vivacious, with flourishing wildlife and plentiful crops. The Omsusians believed in growing their own food and paying back the planet’s generosity by hosting an appreciation ceremony and then growing more food. They never took without offering something in return.  
Correction. Planet Omsus was luscious and vivacious, before the Galra assaulted it. Fire incinerated most of the environment, leaving ashes and dead stumps in its wake. The Omsusians had managed to survive, but with little food and no foundation to grow more, they wouldn’t subsist for long.  
The Voltron lions approached the planet and carefully descended, landing on its surface with several thuds. They slowly opened, allowing their paladins to exit, and the Omsusians cheered weakly. The paladins’ hearts collectively fell as they gazed upon the once thriving planet, now dull and dry.  
“Paladins of Voltron,” one Omsusian greeted. “I am Hexxus. Thank you so much for coming to our aid.”  
“What happened here?” Shiro inquired.  
Hexxus made a noise that sounded very much like a sigh. “Galra. We wouldn’t let them have our special relic, so they set our home aflame.”  
“Special relic?” Pidge repeated. “What relic?”  
“A special plant,” Hexxus replied. “Really, the Galra have no need for it, other than taking away the number one piece of foliage that our people are sworn to protect.”  
“Don’t you protect all foliage?” Shiro questioned.  
Hexxus nodded. “Yes, black paladin, we do, but this one is especially important.”  
“Why is it so special?” Lance wondered. If only he had interpreted the twisting of Hexxus’s features as a grin, he might have retracted his inquiry.  
One of the Omsusians brought the special relic to Hexxus, who took it gingerly. He removed the glass case that covered it, revealing a glowing neon blue flower. It had dozens of petals sticking out in every direction, and numerous leaves decorated the base.  
“A flower?” Keith clarified, raising a brow. What the hell was so important about a blue flower?  
“It produces a different scent to every creature,” Hexxus explained. “You smell that to which you are attracted. Touching its petals will activate a spell that encourages you to act on any secret emotions or desire you may be harboring.”  
Pidge exhaled a snort. “Like a love spell?”  
“Secret love is most common,” Hexxus nodded, “but there are others. Secret hate, secret admiration, secret envy. Whatever you’re hiding you will be compelled to act upon.”  
“So nobody touch the flower,” Shiro instructed. “Secrets are secret for a reason. You’re all impulsive enough as it is.”  
Pidge opened her mouth to speak before simply nodding in agreement. Hunk chuckled softly. Lance whined while attempting to defend himself. Keith simply crossed his arms.  
“Please,” Hexxus began, extending his arms towards Shiro, “take the Spactra. Keep it safe. Do not let the Galra acquire it.”  
“What could they even do with it?” Pidge wondered aloud.  
“I don’t think we want to find out,” Keith reasoned.  
Shiro nodded. “You have my word. We’ll keep the… Spactra… safe.”  
Hexxus nodded once. “Thank you, paladins.”  
The five of them boarded their lions, with Shiro carrying the Spactra. He kept it by his feet, sealed in its glass case, where it wouldn’t slide around. The lions flew back to the castle, hopeful that the Galra would leave Omsus alone now that their special relic was gone.

“I’d love to study it,” Pidge cooed as they all gathered around the Spactra. Everyone had changed out of their armor and into their regular attire, and even Allura and Coran were intrigued by the plant.  
“Nobody touch it,” Shiro reminded.  
“We know, we know,” Lance whimpered. He desperately wanted to touch it, but he knew better. He was very aware of the secret feelings he was harboring for one certain paladin, and nobody needed to know how he felt, especially said paladin.  
“Shouldn’t we have a consequence plan in case someone accidentally touches it?” Hunk inquired. “What if it falls off the counter or someone trips?”  
“Good point,” Shiro nodded. “Well, we can have another group bonding experience to discuss any secret feelings, or we can keep everything to ourselves and hope for the best should someone accidentally touch the Spactra.”  
“Hope for the best,” Lance and Keith answered in unison. Lance’s brow furrowed in curiosity while Keith simply folded his arms and stared at his feet. Pidge pushed her glasses further up her nose bridge, and Hunk sighed dramatically.  
“Well, hopefully none of your secrets are life-threatening,” Shiro stated. “Go relax, guys. We’ve had a long week.”

Lance wasn’t particularly good at doing what he was told if it went against his impulses. Sure, he was obedient- he had a large enough family to teach him that- and he disliked disobeying direct orders (especially from someone he respected as much as Shiro), but when his urges kicked in, he had little control over himself.  
Which was why he found himself creeping through the castle in the middle of the night, sneakily on his way to the relic room where Allura had decided to store the Spactra so that nobody accidentally activated its power.   
Really, Lance should have just stayed in bed and ignored his impulses. But he wouldn’t have been Lance if he had, and he was strangely drawn to the magical flower. He knew better than to touch it, bare-handed at least (magic couldn’t penetrate a glove, right?), but he wanted to look at it, to gaze at its soft blue glow. Maybe it would lull him to sleep.  
He made it to the relic room silently, prying open the door and closing it behind him. In the center of the room, resting on a pedestal, sat the Spactra, encased in glass. The post raised the plant to be about level with Lance’s chest, allowing him to stare down at it. A sense of serenity washed over him as his midnight blue eyes followed the subtle patterns along the cobalt leaves. The luminescent light that emanated from the Spactra absorbed all of the Cuban boy’s attention, and he felt himself being pulled under its spell. In a daze, he reached out, slender fingers grasping the lid of the glass cover. He lifted it, and the neon blue light in the room brightened as if it was finally being unleashed. Lance set the glass on the ground by his feet before his hand reached out again, desperate to touch the soft petals and soothing leaves.   
If only he’d thought to actually bring gloves with him.  
A gasp shook his body as soon as his skin came in contact with the plant. He fell backward, landing on his butt with a thump. After panting for a moment, he shook his head, looking around as though he’d been sleep walking and didn’t understand where he was or how he’d gotten there. Scrambling to his feet, he plucked up the glass cover and placed it back over the Spactra before bolting for the door, slipping out of the relic room and racing to his sleeping quarters before anyone knew what he’d done.

Lance was a flirty guy. Everyone knew that. It was the one piece of his personality that could always be counted on. Thus far, he hadn’t tried to hit on any of his team mates, save for Allura, but he’d assured everyone that was just his personality shining through – he no longer harbored a childlike crush on the princess, nor did he expect any reciprocation of his antics. Everyone had believed him, and as far as they knew, he didn’t have any beyond-friend feelings for anyone else.  
Why, then, did the brunet seem to linger beside Keith throughout the next day? When they gathered for breakfast, the blue and red paladins sat beside each other, as they always did. Now, though, Lance seemed to be sitting on the edge of his chair, getting as close to Keith as he could without transferring to the older boy’s lap. He even went so far as to grasp Keith’s hand when it fell to his side, lacing their fingers until the red paladin realized what was happening and severed the connection.  
After breakfast, Keith had disappeared to the training deck, as usual. The other paladins usually let him be, knowing that he enjoyed honing his skills by himself. But today, Lance decided to follow along, watching the raven-haired boy take out every single simulation bot with little difficulty. Keith had caught him staring and asked if he wanted to join, and the brunet shook his head as though he had come to a realization and shuffled away.   
At dinner, Lance seemed particularly fixed on Keith, visibly hanging onto every word that fell from the red paladin’s mouth. The other paladins saw it more than Keith did, but even he felt a tad smothered by the Cuban. He would be lying if he said he didn’t enjoy the attention, but it was sudden and unwarranted, and Keith was dying to know the cause. He was hyper-aware of Lance’s hand on his thigh, squeezing every so often just because he could.  
It was that night after dinner, when the paladins gathered in the lounge to hang out and spend time together, that a thought popped into Shiro’s head. He gauged the brunet’s body language carefully. Lance was seated on the couch beside Keith, chatting animatedly with Hunk who sat in a nearby chair. The others may have not seen it, but Shiro noticed how Lance’s leg was brushing against Keith’s, how Keith’s gaze was shifting around uncomfortably, how Lance settled against Keith’s side whenever he wasn’t leaning forward to engage in conversation.  
“Keith,” Shiro called. “Can I talk to you?”  
The red paladin nodded, rising from the couch. He missed the pout that crossed Lance’s lips at his absence, but Shiro most certainly noticed it. He led Keith out of the room, far enough to be out of hearing range but close enough to keep an eye on the team.  
“What’s up?” Keith inquired softly.  
“Has Lance been acting strangely to you?” the black paladin countered, his eyes darting between Keith’s confused expression and Lance’s excited hand gestures.  
The raven-haired boy hesitated. “Yeah, I guess. He’s been really…”  
“Clingy?” Shiro finished.  
Keith nodded.  
“I thought so too. Normally, he’s flirting his heart out with Allura and throwing every insult he can think of at you. But today he’s been… focused. On you. Like he wants to hear everything you say and he doesn’t want you to be too far from him.”  
Keith would heavily deny the heat that rose to his cheeks. “It’s not just me, is it? It can’t be. Are you sure he’s not being clingy to everyone?”  
Shiro coughed to stifle a smirk. “It’s just you, Keith. Do you think… he could have touched the Spactra?”  
The red paladin tilted his head as his confusion grew. “What does the Spactra have to do with this?”  
The black paladin sighed at his friend’s ignorance. “Touching it causes you to act on your most secret feelings. Lance has suddenly been far more interested in you, and that’s the only explanation I can think of.”  
Keith processed Shiro’s words while turning his head, his amethyst gaze watching Lance’s expressions with a new mindset. A furious blush spread across his cheeks as he realized that his mentor was completely and totally correct. Lance must have touched the Spactra, and his deepest secret was…  
“Lance likes me?” he whispered without realizing he spoke at all.  
Shiro grinned. “I think you mean, Lance likes you back.”  
Keith spun on his heel, eyes widening as he looked at Shiro.  
The latter chuckled. “Don’t give me that face. I know exactly how you feel about Lance. You fight with him so you don’t accidentally tell him how much you like him. Right?”  
The shorter paladin exhaled a sigh. “Yeah.”  
“Great!”  
Shiro sauntered away, and within moments, he’d cleared the room, save for Lance. Keith shuffled towards the brunet, hands stuffed awkwardly into his pockets, his eyes landing on everything in the room except for Lance.  
Lance, still under the effects of touching the Spactra, beamed up at his teammate. “Do you wanna hang?”  
Keith gulped, reluctantly plopping down on the couch beside the brunet. “Actually, we need to talk.”  
“What’s up?” Lance inquired, shifting closer to Keith until their thighs were touching.  
“Did you, uh…” The red paladin struggled to focus on coherent thoughts with Lance’s body pressed up against his, tan fingers dancing along his thigh, the sweetest smile on his thin lips. “Did you touch the flower we brought back from Omsus?”  
The gears in Lance’s head turned as he fought against the spell, recalling what had happened when he crept out of bed in the middle of the night. “I… I think so. I went to look at it, because I couldn’t sleep. It was so pretty… I took off the glass. I just wanted to feel how soft it was.”  
“Do you remember what Hexxus told us would happen if you touched the Spactra?”  
A nod. “He said we would be compelled to act on our secret feelings.”  
Keith glanced down at where Lance’s hand was rubbing soft circles into his thigh. He waited for the brunet’s gaze to follow, finally realizing what he was doing.  
“Oh…”  
The red paladin smirked. “Do you want to tell me what your secret feelings are?”  
Midnight blue eyes met violet. Lance stared lovingly at Keith, leaning in closer.   
“I might be in love with you,” he whispered.  
Keith’s heart fluttered in his chest. He rested a pale hand on Lance’s tan cheek, his thumb gently caressing his jaw. He leaned in, his lips gently brushing over Lance’s. The Cuban gasped at the contact, his hands fisting in the Texan’s shirt. Keith pressed harder, kissing the blue paladin properly. His lips molded perfectly against Lance’s, and the latter whimpered softly. He slid one hand to the back of Keith’s head, his slender fingers tangling in the soft raven locks. Keith’s other arm wound around Lance’s waist, tugging him close. The Cuban smirked as he crawled onto his teammate’s lap, straddling his waist, pushing their chests impossibly close together.   
When they parted for air, Lance shook his head. His vision seemed clearer, as did his mind.   
“I’m back,” he murmured.  
Keith tilted his head questioningly.   
“The spell’s worn off,” Lance clarified. “I’m all me again.”  
“Then get back here,” Keith demanded quietly, cupping the back of the brunet’s head with his hand and pulling him into another kiss.


End file.
